Of Coffee, Tea and Bloody Evolution
by Asdor2000
Summary: There was never much I asked for in my life. A good job and a calm life. Nothing more. I should have realized sooner: With my luck or karma or whatever is responsible for the surreal event called my life it wasn't going to happen. So now I'm here, stuck in a world where a "calm life" is but a dream. AND WHY CAN'T THEY LET ME LIVE IN PEACE? SI/OC, inspired by "My Turn" and others
1. Chapter 1: The Arrival Part 1

**Hello everyone, Asdor here! This little abomination came to be on a quiet weekend evening and was born from a RWBY marathon, multiple bottles of beer and reading a couple of SI fanfics beforehand. There and then I had decided to try it myself. I'm still not quite sure if this whole undertaking will be worth it, but like the saying goes "Nothing risked, nothing gained".**

 **I orientate myself on an around-1000-words-per-chapter-mark, give or take. It is there to ensure that 1. I can dish out chapters every two or three days and that 2. I can do so without any repercussions to the final sprint of my school days with the _final_ final exams coming up, followed by graduation. Well, now that I think about it there is also a 3. reason: I wanted to try a smaller format to train myself in writing compactly.**

 **Sooo, now that the formalities are out of the way, let's get right into it, shall we?**

* * *

Despite popular belief hard and inanimate objects were not always unpleasant.

For example: A cold and smooth stone pressed against your skin on a warm summer day was pleasant. The same could be said about wood: Walking barefooted on it was something I found to be rather nice. There was an entire list of hard things which were nice to touch.

A wet, rough brick wall on the other hand was not among those. Even more so if it abruptly stopped you midflight. And if your face was the first thing which connected with it than you had truly managed to draw the especially painful experience out of all the ones possible in the moment.

As I began to slide down the wall with my face still connected to it, I wondered the same question you probably have on your mind right now: How did I manage to even end up in such a situation in the first place?

Truth be told: I still had no idea.

It happened on the 18th of October 2016. All I knew was the fact that I was sitting in front of my computer, eating chips and drinking a coke. I had my headphones on and was gunning down the opposing team in a round of Battlefield 3 to my own personal soundtrack.

Currently it was playing " _I'm the one_ " from the RWBY volume 3 soundtrack. I loved that song to death. It was perfect for anything with action in it. And when we were talking about RWBY, I couldn't wait for volume 4 to come out.

Outside my house in the real world a more than turbulent storm was raging. Rather loudly, in fact. So loud that I had to turn up the volume quite a margin if I didn't want to listen to my windows creaking and thunder roaring. They were quite the distracting noises, after all.

And then something happened. The best theory I managed to come up with was that lighting struck my house, bypassed it's lightning rod and somehow managed to find its way to me through my headphones.

All I knew was that this something caused a strange thing to happen. Maybe it killed me and sent yours truly into the afterlife which somehow included a brick wall in a deserted alley. Or it completely ignored physics and ripped open a pathway to another dimension. I wasn't sure what it did exactly, but it happened and now I was laying here, alone, wearing only my indoor outfit consisting out of sweatpants and a t-shirt and got drenched by the heavily downpour.

...Well, laying was not the completely correct term. Something along the lines of 'trying not to scream out in pain whilst clutching my face and wiggling about on the concrete ground' was a lot more accurate.

So here I was, writhing about in pain and laid bare to the rain, drenched and miserable. My head was spinning which may or may not had to do with the fact that I had crashed into a wall, a heavy concussion not out of the question, and had rubbed my face all over its brick-y greatness. All I could thing about was 'what the actual fuck just happened?' and 'Where was I?'.

Sadly, no one was there to answer my questions.

When I had recovered enough to look up and actually take in my surroundings I was greeted by the aforementioned brick wall, a streetlight which was flickering every now and then -most likely in its last strides- and at last a couple of big trash cans, lids closed. THey were more like small containers, really.

A flash of pain and my head started spinning again. The rain continued to seep through my cloths and made my body become colder and colder. I couldn't stay here. Or, at least, not in the rain.

Placing my hands firmly on the ground I pushed. Slowly, ever so slowly I struggled to get up. I didn't know how long It took but eventually, I managed to get up on my feet.

Only for the spinning to intensify even more. My stomach lurched. I staggered towards the wall. I felt sicker and sicker until I couldn't hold it in anymore: A final convulsion and I emptied my stomach. A combination of chips and coke streamed towards the ground. It felt like I had thrown up my insides themselves along with my stomachs contents.

An acrid and sweet smell hit my nose and I had to move away before the next load forced its way up my throat. Persuading my own body to move my vision was starting to become blurred again, only to snap back into focus.

This cycle continued, my vision switching from blurred to sharp and sharp to blurred, disorienting me further and further and intensifying the nausea to the point where I wasn't sure if I would fall over and die the next moment or not.

My body needed some place to rest. Badly.

I Decided now and then on what was probably the strangest thing I could have come up with. But, only to be fair, I wasn't exactly in the right mind at the time. I dragged myself towards one of the trash cans, opened the lid and, after seeing that it was one for paper -thank every deity out there for that- I basically rolled myself over the edge into the trash can and closed the lid above me.

Now, paper was not the best thing to keep the warmth from escaping. But it was still tons better than air and water. The fact that the trash can was closed and watertight and didn't let warm air escape that fast or let the rain in was also a bonus.

As if in trance I burrowed myself deep into the paper heap to make it act like a blanket. A cheap one but a blanket all the same.

My head calmed down, the spinning stopped and the nausea receded more and more. My eyes began to close, my breathing became slower and before I knew it, I slipped away into nothingness.

And that, kids, was how my first day in this strange new place ended.


	2. Chapter 2: The Arrival Part 2

You could not smell yourself under normal circumstances.

That was something everyone could agree with, at least to some degree. The reason behind it was rather simple: You had smelled your own body odor for such a long time that you had acclimatized yourself to it.

Unless you trained to the point of sweating or didn't shower for three days upwards, you would never be able to even begin to experience you own individual smell.

The same phenomenon could be experienced if you stayed in a stuffy room for a longer period of time. Until you opened a window and aired it you would not be able to notice the -for a lack of a better term- stuffiness of the rooms air.

This inability to unconsciously blend out all too familiar smells was something truly godsend. Or else we would be constantly distracted by our bodies' own aroma and couldn't even begin to smell nice things like flowers or bacon.

Sadly, when I woke up I couldn't stop the smell of puke and the acrid stench wafting out of my mouth from getting registered by my nose no matter how long I slept right next to or with it. And with these sensations, the nausea returned in all its gag reflex inducing glory.

Thank all the deities out there that physically I wasn't able to throw up anymore or I would have ended up with my face bathing in halfway digested food and gastric acid.

I didn't even remember where I was: I only knew that wherever I was it was dark and I smelled something horrible. My face was one big blob of pulsing pain, hell, my entire body was in paralyzing pain and sore to the point that I could only do the most minuscule of movements.

A fever had managed to sneak its way into my system thanks to me being wet for a long period of time I felt, well, feverish. Cold sweat ran down my body, my forehead made me think someone had pressed a hot iron against it. The muscles in my body were more akin to wet noodles than the biological motors moving my body they were supposed to be.

My eyes were heavy. The heaviest they have ever been. They felt like someone stitched them close and the effort of opening them only reinforced that feeling with the stinging pain it caused. The situation didn't get better the moment I finally managed to open them. My eyes lost the ability to see every few seconds as I tried my best to look at my surroundings.

Most of it was dark, untouched by the single ray of light coming through a tiny gap into the small space I was hidden in. Add to that the fact that I wasn't in any state to grasp my situation even if I was on a grassland with the perfect environmental conditions this single ray of hope didn't change much. The only thing it did change was the fact that the light bit into my retinas which were currently unable to adopt to its brightness.

A new wave of sickness bringing nausea washed over me and nearly managed to knock me out. Spasms followed, my body convulsing and causing the ever-present pain to grow even more.

And then it happened. A particular brutal spasm made by body bend backwards and slammed my head into what I would later remember to be one of the four walls of the trash can. The sudden flash of pain and the impact did nothing good at first glance. It nearly sent me back into the cozy warm dreamland I came to appreciate whenever I was able to visit it.

Not remembering 95% of your dreams made you feel grateful for the few you could. If only I could have visited the land of dreams and wonder under better circumstances and experienced them not as fever dreams which left you with less energy then you had before but the actual relaxing and refreshing slight of mind that they were.

But despite what should have turned out to be a major setback -I managed to cause a laceration on the back of my head(read: open wound + inside of a trash can = the end of me via infection)- it caused a metallic noise when my head connected. A lot of noise which rang inside the trash can I was inside of in an amplified form, shooting from one wall to the next and making them vibrate.

But it turned out to be the best thing which could have happened to me, despite nearly overwhelming my ears with its ungodly volume and sending me back into the abyss.

"Is the- som-one? He-o?", a deep voice, muffled from the walls around me, reached my ears but I was in no state to actually comprehend what was being said. But a voice, even one I couldn't understand was enough for me to become hopeful.

"If th-re is so-one, a-swer -e."

And the human body was a truly remarkable thing for even something like hope or desperation or a sense of danger could potentially bring about one last instance of strength; One last surge which could, in the right circumstances, be enough to overcome the obstacle in your way.

In my case it was a sudden and small rush of power, barely there but enough to enable me to flail around with my left arm and randomly hit the wall again. A second time the noise rang. I forced myself to stay awake even when the sound rammed into one ear, passed through my brain and came out on the other side.

I was rewarded by the sound of footsteps coming nearer and nearer. But the more I tried to concentrate on this single sign of hope, the more I lost myself to the darkness. The last bit of energy in my body had been spent as I hit the wall to make myself known and now I was drained without a drop of strength left.

And as the lid was ripped open, the light of day rushed in and I was greeted by a humanoid silhouette my mind drifted away to the sound of concerned screaming.


	3. Chapter 3: Awakening and Confusion

I was never really able to sleep peacefully. My Insomnia made sure of that.

My memories concerning its origin weren't quite there. I knew that it started around my elementary school days but nothing more came to mind. The only thing I knew, which wasn't surprising since I had to deal with it every day, was the fact that sleep, true sleep became something which had slipped out of my grasp for what would be quite possibly forever.

The ability simply wasn't there anymore.

Instead I got four, maybe five hours of sleep every day, sleep so light that something as simple as a car passing by could wake me up. Not even counting the hours I spent laying on my bed and being unable to drift off. Having nothing better to do, my brain would begin to run on overdrive which increased the inability to fall asleep even further.

The nights had easily become the most boring and at the same time most dreaded portions of my daily life: If you had nothing to do and were unable to sleep despite the crushing drowsiness and the fact that your body screamed at you for sleep...

Let's just say it wasn't fun.

The only things it gave me were everlasting somnolence, rings under my eyes, a zombie like state in the morning and an extreme need for coffee bordering on addiction. More to the latter later.

So it was to no surprise that when I woke up after suffering through a fever riddled sleep in a trash can my mind wasn't really there at first. The only thing in my brain was the strong call to coffee I had grown accustomed to over years of sleep deprivation.

Next came the realization that there was no pain. My body felt sore like never before, yes, but absolutely no pain whatsoever. Blinking heavily and slowly gaining the ability to see again I was greeted by a ceiling.

I couldn't make sense out of that at the time.

A warmth surrounding me which was not there before prompted me to look down, slowly, as if I was in a trance. This time I was greeted by a blanket which had been wrapped around me. And I was laying on a bed. Go figure.

This, too, I couldn't make sense out of.

I attempted to sit up, mainly because I wanted to find the nearest coffee machine available, but didn't have the strength necessary to do. The fruitless effort also caused a little bit of pain to flare up in all of my muscles. The pain was similar to the one you got the next day after a particular long and intensive training session.

So, now that I was stuck here in the form of a human-blanket-burrito and had nothing better to do my brain finally decided to boot up and shoved multiple things into the forefront of my mind.

Like, for example, that this particular ceiling and blanket were not the ceiling and the blanket from my bedroom.

My eyes widened at the realization and wasted no time with darting to the left and right. The room I had been sleeping in up till now was not mine. It was too big for that. The furniture and decorations were not something I was familiar, either.

For starters, My room had not been what appeared to be an entire loft repurposed into an apartment. The light of day shined through the multiple windows and-

Were my eyes deceiving me or was that a balcony on the left side of the roof? _A roof balcony_?!

...Why, yes, it was!

Said ingenious and totally awesome thing to have was connected to the loft via a big glass door for easy access and a nice view on the landscape, even in the winter when it would be too cold to sit outside.

Directing my view to the right this time I roamed with my eyes through the interior of the room. Sadly, there wasn't really much to look at: Besides the bed I was stuffed in I could only see one couch, three chairs around a table, a kitchenette, a cupboard and a wardrobe.

The last two stood in front of two of the walls, one next to the bed and one on the opposite side. The table plus seating arrangements were placed in the middle of the apartment and the kitchenette was located in the far left corner. A basic layout from my experience.

Actually, now that I thought about it, the entire apartment looked like it hadn't been used for a longer period of time and had been prepared to be sold.

Which brought me to my next question: Why did I wake up in this unfamiliar place? Scratch that, what was this place in the first... place...

Yeah, by now it was pretty clear that my brain did not come out completely intact after what had happened to me. Whatever it was.

So, in order to answer the question on my mind I tried to think about anything which felt even a little bit useful. The last memories I had were pretty blurred: I had been sitting in front of my computer and playing a video game. Music blasting into my ears. And then... The only thing I could remember was a dark alley before there was nothing.

My entire life I had always focused the majority of my energy into controlling my life. The situations in it. It was the reason why I didn't drink to the point of getting knocked out. Why I observed first, thought carefully and then, after coming to a conclusion, finally acted.

A large part of staying in control was to keep important memories of things which had happened to me as clear and concise as possible. It made controlling my life and everything it entailed so much easier. And now, for the first time since what felt like forever I had no concrete recollection about recent past events.

And that scared the living shit out of me.

Frantically I drove further and further down memory lane, trying my hardest to gather some information, the broken pieces which were supposed to be together and safely tucked away in my short term memory. And deeper and deeper I went, blending out more and more of my surroundings until I was completely focused on my mind and had no attentiveness left whatsoever for what was happening around me.

It was the reason why I didn't hear the door open, why I didn't hear the footsteps approaching. I didn't hear the strangely familiar deep voice. Only when something grabbed my shoulder and shook me strongly I was finally ripped out of my thoughts.

What could only be described as the biggest shock in my nineteen years of existence caused my head to shoot up abruptly, a small miracle I didn't suffer a whiplash, and I stared into the eyes of the man who got the closer to the size and bulkiness of a bear than anyone before him. Seriously, he was seven feet tall, at least, and he had so many muscles even his muscles had muscles.

"Finally awake, huh?", his deep and gruff voice spoke up once again and this time I heard it. My hands began to shiver.

And then my heart stopped working in face of the ultimate human killing machine, patent pending.


	4. Chapter 4: First Impression, blown Mind

Since ancient times we have evolved and distanced ourselves further and further from the more primitive parts of our nature.

It was the reason for many behaviors we had in these modern times: We didn't run around fully naked even if we were able to do so for sure. We also didn't jump the nearest most attractive person when we felt like it and we didn't kill someone the moment they disagreed with us. Well, most of the time.

But there were some primitive parts of us, certain instincts we never actually managed to suppress or lose entirely. One was the most prominent out of all of the instincts we had since times long past, and probably also the most famous one.

I, of course, was talking about fight or flight.

When faced with great danger, we would decide instinctively if we run away to avoid certain death or if we stay and fight for hope of survival. There was absolutely no thinking involved in this process.

Now, as I was laying here on the bed and face to face with the only giant in existence I had the very same instinct kick in. Fight or flight, that was the decision to be made. A decision which would determine if my fate would be to live or to die.

And my body promptly decided to tell it to go fuck itself and chose the third option.

Said option was the one regularly chosen by small mammals to stay stock-still and wait for the predator to stop looking at it and then to walk away. Of course, this would have never worked with a human, for starters, nevertheless with someone who had already placed one hand on my shoulder and knew for a fact that I was alive and awake.

Consciously, I knew that this particular reaction would be absolutely and utterly useless.

Unconsciously, I didn't get the memo and froze up.

So I had nothing left besides letting my body do as it wished. Time seemed to freeze as I looked at the anthropomorphic grizzly in front of me with eyes widened to such a degree that they were threatening to pop out of their sockets.

After what seemed to be an eternity time resumed its normal flow as the man's brows furrowed in what appeared to be concern. slowly he lifted his hand up and away from my shoulder. I reacted by scurrying away, if only a little as to not provoke a violent reaction.

If he was insulted by my reaction to his presence or me creating some distance I couldn't really determine, but under normal circumstances humans had a tendency to feel miffed if someone didn't want to be near them. One of the reasons why I was still being cautious.

"How are you feeling?", he asked me instead of smashing my head in, small victory right there, and a little of the concern he displayed earlier was leaking into his voice. It almost sounded genuine. But I wouldn't be fooled! There was no way he wasn't some nefarious person with an even more nefarious plan!

Why else would he have dragged someone he didn't know and who probably needed help into an apartment which was probably vacant for half a year or more? There wasn't a single good reason to do so. Hospitals existed for a reason and every upstanding citizen would have brought me there instead of some abandoned home.

It was fairly safe to assume something wasn't right.

And now when I actually looked at him my initial impression was only emphasized. Call it stereotyping but he actually looked the part and I wouldn't let anybody tell me otherwise.

Middle-aged, black hair starting to turn grey and a face screaming "angry" which he likely got, as far I could tell, from constant frowning. If you needed an visual representation for the word "angry", you had to look no further.

Add to that the clothing he wore which wouldn't have looked out of place in The Mob. Clean white shirt, a black waistcoat, black pants and black shoes. He would have only needed some kind of firearm and the image would have been complete.

"Do you hear me, boy? Hello? Somebody up there?", His finger against my forehead brought me out of my stupor.

Normally, I still wouldn't have reacted in any way but something he said was something I hated more than most things in the world. Something which made me shout out anytime someone would say it.

"I'M NOT A BOY I'M NINETEEN, DAMN IT!", my shout echoed through the room as I sat there, staring angrily and with narrowed eyes at someone who could probably snap me in half by looking at me funny.

At this point I wanted to stress this again just to be sure: This whole first meeting thing was not the most intelligent one on my part. I would be doing better in coming events. I promised!

At the very least I was happy he spoke English. Not my primary choice, English being my second language and all, but I was fluent in it. Enough to automatically switch to it and enough to live normally using only English, at least.

Ahem, Back to the program.

The only reaction I got from him was a small grin and an amused, gruff hum. Instead of saying anything he walked towards one of the chairs, turned it around and sat down. One leg crossed the other, an ankle on a knee, and he leaned back comfortably with his arms crossed.

"Then what should I call you?"

That was one strange question. I was away for who knew how long. At the very least, he could have checked my ID-

"And before you give me a smartass answer, you have no ID on you." I recoiled back in shock. He could read minds?! What kind of sorcery is this?!

"No, I cannot read minds.", your answer did not elevate suspicion, old man. But the only thing he did was to laugh.

"Your face said it all. I don't need the ability to read minds if you pull expressions like that.", damn it! His whole existence had pushed me off balance and I couldn't stop them from forming on my face. Quickly, inner-me, enter your zen-zone! Be the master of my body! Wait, that sounded wrong!

A deep breath, another and I finally managed to slow down my heart rate. All the noise in my head, the frantic thoughts calmed down and finally I was able to concentrate.

And just in time since there was something very important that I had to do: Take over the flow of the conversation and press for information. I still had no idea where I was and that was getting on my nerves now since the lack of knowledge had resurfaced in my mind.

"Actually, where am I? My memory is a little bit... fuzzy."

"An apartment I own.", again, he was very bad at the whole 'losing suspicion' thing.

"I can see that. I wanted to know a little more than that." and oh boy was it hard to stay calm with the ever present grin on his face. It was as if the first impression I got had been replaced with one of pure annoyance.

"Like what?"

"Which city we are in now, for instance. I am not familiar with what I can see from here.", My eyes wandered to look out at the landscape outside I was finally able to recognize as a city now that my brain was not a scrambled mess.

"Completely different architecture", the murmur left my mouth before I could stop it.

"Vale."

"What, like Valedonia?", I couldn't remember a city with that name existing to be honest. But, then again, I had never been the most attentive in geography classes to begin with, mentally speaking. Utterly boring at times. Though the name did indeed ring a bell. Where have I heard that one before...

"No, simply 'Vale'. As in the capital of the Kingdom of Vale.", his face was once again adorning a frown. Slowly my mind was processing the situation.

And then in my head it clicked. And once again my heart plummeted to where my socks normally where.

"Oooohh...", this sound was the only one I was able to make because, to be really frank here, in what other way could you possible react to something like that?

 _Fuck all kinds of duck._

Besides cursing in your head, of course.


	5. Chapter 5: Realisation and two Lies

**First Order of Business: Apparently I do not manage to hit the 1000-words-mark so in the future I will ingore it and simply write as compact as possible. I can imagine that it doesn't really matter to you, more to read and hopefully enjoy, but for me it is somewhat of a failure. Then again, 500-800 words plus isn't really the world, right?**

 **We continue on to the next Order of business.**

 **Q &A Section:**

 ** _Bomberguy789:_ First of all, sorry for the late reply. I wasn't really awake when I posted the chapters or when I checked my emails and simply went through them without actually looking at them. I had no idea that I already had reviews for this story. Again, I want to apologize for that.**

 **Now, on to the reviews: Firstly, thanks for all three of them and I'm glad you like the story so far. Concerning its direction, Let's just say it will take a path not taken by many RWBY stories on and leave it at that. There will be action, yes, definitely, but it won't be the mainstay of this brainchild of mine.**

 **And lastly, in the moment I don't really have much time but when I get the chance I will definitely look into your story.**

 **And with that the Q &A has come to an end and the story continues. Cheers!**

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There were a lot of things which could potentially throw you of.

A tree landing on the new car you had just now paid off fully. Getting fired for no apparent reason besides "we need to do cuts". Experiencing the death of your first pet.

Or, as I was getting told now, ending up somehow and for whatever reason in the world of an animated series which was likely to kill you twenty times over in the first month you lived here. This was quite serious! A disaster, even!

... Or he was simply pulling my leg and played the most elaborate prank in history on me.

Yeah, I liked that one. There was absolutely no way that I was in Vale of the Kingdom of Vale. Trans-universe travel was not really a thing, right? _Right?_

I knew I was right but let's test that theory just in case.

"Nooo, that can't be right.", I tried to put as much distrust into my voice as possible. Judging from his face, I did indeed succeed.

"I am fairly certain that I know where I live. Where do you think you are?", fishing for information was he? Why did he want to know? To figure out where I lived and to extort my family for money? Not on my watch.

So I did the best thing I could and looked at anything in the room but him. In my head the tactic was flawless. Of course, no tactic survived contact with the enemy. Which, in my case, had probably more to do with the rather... poor execution of the plan.

Looking at him from the corner of my eyes -totally subtle of course, he could have never noticed it- the only thing he gave me was a stare so deadpan it could actually pan the dead. Whatever that meant. So I had to improvise.

"I don't know... Cologne?", great going me! That was the most flawless deflection in the history of everything! Good job!

Or at least that was what I wished for it to be. In reality, his already unimpressed expression turned even more unimpressed and he raised one eyebrow in addition to the stare he gave me. But confusion began to get mixed in also.

"Never heard of it before. Is it outside the four kingdoms? Some sort of isolationist village ,maybe?"

I didn't detect any deceit in his voice. He sounded genuinely confused. A small seed of doubt began to form in my mind. Could it be...

Seriously? Was he for real?

"Is cologne your hometown?", his words ripped me out of my inner conflict and made me to mentally jerk back in repulsion.

"Oh gods, no! To many crazy people running around."

"Crazy people?", judging from his words he had the image of some sort of cult in his mind. Which wasn't of the mark by much now that I thought about it.

"Don't ask.", I had been watching a carnival procession once. Never again.

I had been there with my family and this whole thing ended with my sister in a hospital. A chocolate bar thrown from someone in the procession had hit her on the head. She needed stitches after that.

My family and I had come up with the theory that the bar had been taken out of a refrigerator shortly before the carnival procession began and was stone hard because of that.

It had been a truly traumatizing event for a six years old.

Remember, kids, even chocolate was potentially dangerous if not handled with care.

"You still haven't told me from where you are, by the way." damn it, I have drifted off again! This was happening way too much. And now I was on the defensive again. Quickly, I needed to do another deflection!

"Can you show me proof that I am in Vale?", HA, now I had him! There was no way in the seven circles of hell that-

And he pulled something out of one of his pockets that I would have never thought to ever see in real life: A scroll. He had an honest-to-god scroll in his hands and it was real: He pulled the two bits apart to reveal the screen, which shouldn't have been able to occupy so little space before, and it flared up to live.

He opened something and turned the scroll around so that I was able to see what was on the screen. It was a map. And there, in bold letters, right beside the small dot marking out current location was the name of the city.

Vale. Capital of the Kingdom of Vale. One of the current four in the World of Remnant.

 _He actually told the truth. He actually told the truth. He actually told the tru-_

"And now, seeing as you are obviously not from here, the question remains: Where You are from?"

His eyes didn't leave mine, his body tensed up to react to whatever action I would take. Of course, on first glance there was no difference in posture. His legs were still crossed, his body was still leaned back. But it was the way his jaw clenched, his hands curled up to fists which betrayed him, his intentions.

He actually expected me to lash out. And truth be told I felt like it. Really, who could blame me: This whole situation was too surreal. I hoped for it all to be a dream, that I would wake up anytime soon and that I would be back in my bedroom.

Sadly, that moment never came.

And now I was in a pickle: Should I tell him the honest truth, lose whatever little trust he had in my sanity and end up in an asylum? Because that would be the logical way it would go if I took that route.

No, thank you.

So I did the only thing I could do at this point: Create a white lie to save my bacon and at the same time stick so close to the truth that no one would catch on. So well constructed and finely tuned that it would even be genius-proof. Well, that was an exaggeration. Expert-proof would be more like it.

Thankfully I was again at the point where I could actually say something without making a not wanted facial expression. With them, this whole think would be an impossibility to pull off.

"I am from Dortmund, a small village outside the four kingdoms."

First part a truth, second part a lie. A small frown hushed over his face. Crap, did my lie die even before I could fully build it up?

"Again, a name I have never heard before."

 _Crap!_

"But I suppose villages outside the kingdoms come and go in dozens so...", I let out the breath I was holding in my mind. A small victory right there.

He opened his mouth to speak but I couldn't let him. The bait has been laid, now It was time to go on the offensive!

"And before you ask: I have no clue how I ended up here.", a truth on my part. The best lies were the one closest to the truth and if you didn't need to lie in the first place, even better.

"Are you sure you are not a psychic yourself?", his grin told me he was joking. A good sign. Someone joking was generally speaking in a good mood and those were rare in humans who knew they was being lied to.

"But enough of that. You realize you still haven't told me one thing.", it was my turn to look at him in confusion.

"And what is that?"

he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. I responded with staring at him with suspicion... in my... gaze...

Yeah, I could have worded that better.

"Your name. I could call you 'boy' until the end of time, but I think you prefer something else.", damn him and damn my little episode back then. But now I had to do the most spontaneous and quickest brainstorm in existence.

Because there was a rule. A rule for naming.

It was called 'The Rule of Color'. Or something like that.

This tiny little unofficial rule the remnantians(?) had come up with after the Great War stated that you should name your children after a color or things which made you think of a specific color. It was implemented to fight against the threat individualism was under during that time.

So I had to come up with a name on the spot following that rule. It had to be something I was okay with and at the same time I had to do it immediately or he would become suspicious again.

Thankfully, I had a talent for such things.

"My name is Kestrel. Kestrel Harvest."


	6. Chapter 6: A Future and a Mistake

It always felt a little overwhelming how fast events could unfold.

As if time itself was just an afterthought you were dragged through a multitude of developments without pause to take a breather or even the chance to think about it.

Like getting introduced into the secondary school and your first years there, you got pushed through events at such a rapid pace that you are left stunned when it all caught up to you.

Though it probably had more to do with the oncoming puberty than anything else.

The staggering flood of things which happened to me consisted out of a job offer and a place to stay, the former being one I was practically forced into.

Because of that, let us talk about the job offer first. Which was also directly linked to my question as to why I hadn't been brought to a hospital. Or a doctor. Or any professional medic guy.

You see, apparently in Remnant only people with an ID, ergo a provable citizenship in one of the four kingdoms got to be treated medically.

And that made sense from a certain point of view: Why waste resources on people who probably could not contribute, read pay back the cost for the treatment, to society or are no members of society to begin with?

It may seemed callous to people not from Remnant but it made sense, logically speaking: Resources were limited, no matter what first impression you got from the kingdoms. That was the price you had to pay for a welfare state in a world where you had only so much space for food production.

Or for anything, really.

Without this rule the resources would have needed to be stretched over more and more people, leading to less and less per person and would have consequently weakened the kingdom as a whole, making it susceptible to Grimm attacks. And that would have been bad.

(Un-)Fortunately I didn't have an ID or anything to identify me on my person -who did when they were in their indoor outfit?- and my biometric data was not in the system. The consequence of that: I couldn't be brought to a hospital or a doctor for treatment.

And so the old man, whose name was Flint Rock by the way, had to patch me up himself.

Besides the wound on the back of my head which he had to close with a medical adhesive -no idea where he got it or the knowledge how to use it- there wasn't much besides painkillers and time he needed to treat me.

I had been out for a week. Quite a shocker when I heard it the first time. What turned out to be a bigger shocker was the fact that I didn't even feel the laceration on the back of my head anymore. He really knew his way around first aid.

But Costs were costs and so he gave me the choice between working for him and going to jail. I was pretty sure the jail thing was a joke because who would do such a thing but I decided to work for him anyway.

I owed him and I hated owing someone anything and not paying them back. It was a pride thing.

And just like that I started to work for him in his shop which was located in the ground level of the same building the apartment was. It's name was 'Bean Here'. I couldn't help but groan when I first heard it.

But good news: It was a coffee shop. An honest-to-god coffee shop. It got even better: While he did sell tea and pastries, the latter going well with the hot beverages, the coffee was obviously the most important point.

The work clothes were practically the same he wore when we first 'met', consisting out of clean white shirt, a black waistcoat, black pants and a pair of black shoes. The only difference was the red tie I had to wear. Still, I quite liked this more traditional style.

I even got a work visa which wasn't that hard to get. Apparently, people from villages outside the kingdoms arriving everyday to start a life had become an everyday occurrence and an entire system had been established just to manage this 'small' onslaught.

The only things I needed to give were my name, the name of my hometown and my biometrical data such as a DNA sample and my height. Standard information, really. And since there was no way to actually verify the information I got through without much hassle.

Which was strange. You would think they would be a little more suspicious of a total stranger about whom there was no points of reference since, to be real here, my home town didn't really exist in this world. You couldn't know of something which wasn't there in the first place.

So I had a job and a steady income. Flint even gave me advance money to buy some clothes with. Which was nice since I only had my indoor outfit on me. The same outfit unavailable right now for it was in need of decontamination.

The last thing I had to clarify was the whole home situation.

Long story short when he heard of my situation Flint offered me the apartment in which I woke up until I found something better. Of course this didn't come for free and the rent was to be deducted from my monthly salary. This in turn would mean I needed to work for him for a longer period of time. Not that I had any problem with it whatsoever.

Free coffee and pastries during breaks. I didn't need to say more.

My job included but was not limited to playing waiter, preparing food and drink and keeping the shop clean and proper. They were things I already had experience with in my old world and didn't require a lot of adjusting on my part.

But let us come back to the here and now: Currently I was performing another duty from the list of things I needed to do:

Buying groceries.

I had already bought all I needed and was on the way back. There hadn't been any time to change out of the work clothes but I didn't mind. I was simply wearing a coat over it for it was cold at this time of the year, this time of the year being the fall.

So here I was, walking down the street and dreaming about the end of the month. I would get my first salary and it was going to be just enough to buy a scroll. I felt my mouth water at the thought. It was fairly accurate to call me a bit of a tech fan. I simply loved those things.

All in all I had been hit by a series of lucky events I probably wouldn't have survived the first week without.

And that made me fear for my life.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that my life was one haunted by misfortune. Me being here was indicator enough.

And not the good and funny kind like it was shown in some anime or TV shows. No, it was the kind which made you bite off your fingers if you hadn't been exposed to it for your entire life and were acclimatized to it.

A lucky event was followed by a greater misfortune of some shape or form. It was the reason why I dreaded those. And now I had been 'blessed' with a whole series of them. This couldn't bode well for me. At all.

By now you were most likely calling me 'paranoid' or a 'scaredy cat'. Saying that this wasn't even possible and all these things everyone said to someone like me.

Well, you could suck it because my prediction turned out to be right.

As I was walking down the street I stumbled over a scene which could have come straight out of some fictional story. A group of five young men had surrounded a lone girl sitting on a bench and were trying their hardest to pick her up. They were failing miserably.

Even I, someone with no social skills to speak of, knew that this girl was not interested in them in the slightest. She didn't even look at them.

Speaking of the girl, she looked somewhat familiar. But oh well.

My fear of any incoming misfortune was enough reason for me to leave it as it was and hope for the best. There were enough heroes in this world. Someone else would surely help.

Only when I came closer and paid attention to the girl's appearance I realized what exactly was happening. Or more like what was about to happen if left unchecked.

Red and black Asian themed clothes, black and long hair and blood red eyes. An annoyed expression marred her face and she was definitely not amused.

This girl was someone I had seen in the RWBY series. She was an adult back then, yes, but it was still clear who that someone was. Someone who _Qrow Branwen_ himself, a badass and huntsman extraordinaire, called 'dangerous'.

This girl, lads and gens, was **_THE_** Raven Branwen.

I was by no means a humanist. For that I would need to have an interest in people as a whole and not only for a select few and, more importantly, for myself. A calm and uneventful life was more important to me than most things, tragedies included.

But even I couldn't overlook something like that. The five men didn't even knew what kind of foolery they were committing; What danger they were in because they were trying to pick up **_THE_** Raven Branwen who was getting annoyed to the breaking point.

Seriously, could they not see the weapon beside her, leaning against the bench?

The scene could only be described as 'Fives homicides in the making'.

Even I wasn't so cruel as to leave them to their approaching doom. So despite the fact that the rational part of my mind screamed at me to stop I decided to save those poor souls.

At this point in time I wasn't aware of the repercussions this action would have.


	7. Chapter 7: Betrayed by a Bird

**Little head-up for all who are interested: The bug of missing reviews still lingers in the depths and by the looks of it, said bug only affects this story. I double-checked, guest reviews are enabled, so I don't know what is going on. But don't worry, I can still read them via email notification.**

* * *

Most incidents, accidents or bad things which happened to us were born from our own stupidity.

That was the conclusion I arrived at from watching people I knew, reading history books or watching the news. At some point the person in question had made a dumb decision and reaped what they had sown.

For example, climbing up an electrical tower in a drunken stupor, slipping of the ladder and falling down to their doom; Stupidity.

Another one would have been shoving a glass up your behind with said glass cracking, splintering and cutting you open internally and making you bleed slowly to death; Stupidity.

There was also-

It would be for the best if I stopped myself here. For all our sanities' sake.

What I wanted to say was that stupidity was more often than we wanted it to be one of the, if not the main reason for people to die or suffer. Humans had a remarkably low sense for self preservation in that regard.

And I didn't care about the argument everyone who had done stupid stuff gave you when asked; The one that they had always prepared, that they wanted to ' _live a little_ '. Really, what about a glass up your butt and bleeding internally was ' _living a little_ '? Sometimes I didn't get people.

Right now I was about to do my own stupid thing: Saving five libido controlled idiots from the wrath of a huntress-in-training who was as interested in them as she was in pebbles on the side of the road.

Which was twice as dangerous for the one who was intervening. Namely, for me.

For starters, libido controlled youths in general were likely to react in a very aggressive manner if they were stopped by a third party during _The Approach_. Possible responses included but were not limited to shouting, punching and kicking.

While normally getting lynched by a group of sexually frustrated dumbasses was far from a pleasant experience and something I never wanted to be subjugated to there was something I feared even more.

It concerned the second danger: The aftermath.

From my personal experience proud people did not take it well if someone tried to save them from something they didn't perceive as a threat.

Consider the fact that the human in question was a girl, training to fight monsters, probably had a short temper and was already annoyed to near the point of snapping by the pitiful attempts of five dumb knobs; There was a big chance that she would vent her pent up anger on the one who did something demeaning from her point of view like ' _trying to save her even if she could do so herself_ '.

Which was unfair in my opinion: After all, I didn't want to save her but the morons walking into their shared grave.

As I was strolling straight towards the scene and contemplating the best course of action the first person who saw my approach was Raven. She had searched for something to distract her from the yapping and her eyes simply landed on the one approaching, ergo me, by mere coincidence.

Red orbs narrowed in suspicion and she readjusted her position in order to jump up fast -I was not that intimidating now was I?- and in response I tried to give her my most disarming smile. Additionally I decreased my walking speed. Both didn't help much judging from the now clenched fists, one inching closer towards her weapon.

I suddenly felt a lot more nervous about the whole thing and prayed for something to happen which didn't end with me in pain.

Unrealistic, but one could hope.

When I finally stepped up behind them the five guys about to commit suicide still hadn't noticed me. Which could work in my favor if I played my cards right. People who were surprised and caught off guard were more susceptible to manipula- I meant making them see reason.

Standing behind them I cleared my throat and watched the five jump a little before turning around. And they looked furious. Flustered, yes, but furious. That was a bad sign. Predictable, yes, but bad nonetheless.

It was a truly bizarre situation. You had to try and picture it in your head:

On one side there were five guys looking like any generic group of delinquents. The scary and dangerous ones, ready to pull out weapons and kill you. Not the group whom you would make jokes about later with your friends.

On the other side there was me, a six feet two inches tall guy on the lean side, dressed in a waiter's outfit and carrying two bags of groceries, trying his best to look as nonchalant as possible.

Thank god for my poker face or this whole ordeal would have ended within seconds. But now there was another problem:

I didn't have a plan. Whatever things I had come up with on the way towards them was forever lost as the group of angry men focused their entire attention on lil' old me.

There was no other option left besides winging it. And wing it I did.

"Hey, little sis! Sorry for the wait!"

Of course the first thing I tried was the classical 'relative coming back from shopping'-card. Important was for your eyes to stay on the person in question, here Raven, and to look like one who ignored the offending participants.

With the biggest, most cheerful, type 3 diabetes inducing smile I could muster I greeted her with a voice filled with such raw happiness; Let's just say that it wasn't so far off to say that the brother I was acting out hadn't see her for a felt lifetime and couldn't stop the pure sugar from flowing out of his mouth.

Looking back I might have overacted. A little bit. A teeny itsy-bitsy bit.

"And who are you supposed to be, huh?", when confronted with the 'leader's' response I had the immediate desire to stop the act, excuse myself and walk away without saving them. It seemed less and less worth to save their asses.

I didn't like the them.

Seriously, I would never understand how everyone was able to say that stereotyping is a bad thing to do when confronted with people who were walking stereotypes themselves.

"Like I said, her brother.", from the looks of it they started to believe me. I could feel the relief figuratively flowing into me. A little more coaxing and the mission was going to be a success!

"You see, she didn't want to go with me into the grocery store back there since she doesn't really like crowds, and so she waited for me here and-"

"He isn't.", all our eyes wandered towards Raven and if it weren't for the fact that my life was on the line I would have loudly cursed at her.

Who in their right mind would simply stab someone who offered a helping hand in the back? Even if the helping hand was only there to ensure the other parties' survival? That was something no sane person would do, right?

In hindsight: Raven was going to leave Yang, her own daughter, behind and wouldn't protect her from getting her arm slashed off because Raven had the rule 'to only save her once'. That didn't really scream 'I AM SANE!', did it?

Haaaaa... Why did I always meet the crazy ones?

"I don't even know him.", and without even a single speck of remorse Raven continued to dig the hole she made under me deeper and deeper.

Damn you, Raven! You were going to be the death of me!

"What's she saying? You an imposter?", aaand they were onto me. Quickly, brain, think!

"NO! No, of course not! It's just a simple game we play. You see, we are only step brother and sister. It's how the game works, pretending to not know the other. To pull others' legs and all that.", I delivered that line as best as I could, all the while nervously laughing to elevate some suspicion.

If my hands hadn't been full with bags there would have been some anxious head scratching on my part making lying impossible. But thank everything holy it was not to be.

" _Sis_ , stop it! The gig is up. We really need to get going. We still have to prepare lunch. We promised Aunty Violet and she can't do it 'cause she is sick. And we do have to help her out with the shop. Now, say goodbye to your new friends and lets go."

Come on, help me out a little! I didn't want to die!

"He is not my brother."

 _ **RAVEN!**_

It was blown. It was officially and totally over. I had been busted by the one person in a fifteen feet radius I hadn't had no personal problem with. Now I was starting to think that there might be some form of contempt for her after all.

"You thin' you could trick us 'ou punk, huh?", If I hadn't been in such a pickle I probably would have addressed his complete inability to speak coherently. I spoke a better English than him and I wasn't even a native speaker.

"Me, thinking I could trick you? Of course not. You are such a dashing example of body and mind, I would never!", a nervous laugh escaped my mouth and what felt like a cascade of cold sweat rolled down my back. This whole situation was getting a little too hot for my tastes.

Sadly he didn't look like he or his compadres bought it judging from the way they began to encircle me. So even someone like him had a brain and could see through you if another person pointed it out for him.

If only when they did it in explicit detail and explained it for him in a very, very simple manner.

Yeah, now the deal was without a doubt sealed: This whole situation was not salvageable anymore. Time for ensuring that I didn't suffer the same fate a punching bag did after a boxing club's training session. A long one.

For achieving that there had been so many ways in which I could have reacted.

I could have come clean, excused myself and let things go their natural course.

I could have switched to another plan like 'The Childhood Friend' and still tried to solve this entire situation. Raven probably would have fallen into my back, again, but I could have at least made the attempt.

Or I could have done what I ended up doing: Running away like a headless chicken and getting chased by the five brain-o-phobics until who-knew-when.

"GET BACK HERE!"

"I AM SORRY!"

At least she couldn't kill them anymore. Mission semi-accomplished!

Now if only I didn't die, that would be perfect...


	8. Chapter 8: Disasters come with Seasons

**First of all, thanks for the reviews everyone! This story is received far better than I ever anticipated. Thanks for all the support till now and I hope you continue to enjoy this story!**

 **Discussion Section (because Q &A doesn't cut it):**

 ** _Guest:_ I have read through your rather lengthy review. Firstly, thanks for investing so much time in writing this. The fact that you did that makes me happy. Now, I'm not so sure if this was serious critique, simply a rant or a well meant review but I will answer anyway, mainly because I like to do such things.**

 **The entire situation revolves around the stupidity of humans. Its why I have an entire segment dedicated to it and its role in our lives. Doing something stupid and reaping the repercussions was the point of it all.**

 **Trying to pick Raven up was stupidity on the group's part, trying to intervene was stupidity on Kestrel's part.**

 **He is inept when it comes to social interaction, something he knows himself. He is introverted and is more than uncomfortable when the attention is on him. Kestrel forgets his original plan and starts to search for some solution in a state of panic, overthinking it. He simply goes with the first thing coming to his mind and it turns out to be the wrong one. Once the words are out, in his panic filled head It is too late to change or stop anything and so he can only stick with it.**

 **And yes, he doesn't really want to save them on an unconscious level. He insulted them many times in his thoughts, does not like them and wants to stop during the interaction when he is already too deep in. The decision itself is half-assed at best, further dooming it to failure. But no, he doesn't want to white knight for Raven, be it knowingly or unknowingly. Consciously, he truly thinks he has to save them. It simply isn't translated well into action by his own shortcomings.**

 **In the end, Kestrel's own stupidity and inability to handle a situation like that makes him pay the price and yes, he deserved the stab in the back. And it's important that this failure has happened: After all, personal growth does not simply occur without reason.**

 **That was all I want to say and once again, thank you for the review!**

* * *

You would always meet someone twice in your life.

That was a universal rule, a fundamental law of nature which you couldn't break or ignore. It didn't matter who, you would always meet them again.

Like the one teacher who made your school life hell and who got a kick in the ass from you after graduation when he had his back turned. Then later you would find out shortly before a job interview that he is your potential boss' friend when you met him in front of the office door.

Or the one jackass who cut in line at the supermarket because he is sooo busy, you start berating him because of that, call him some names and later meet him again as a doctor in a hospital, where he gives you the most unpleasant check-up imaginable.

Following that rule, I shouldn't have been surprised by what happened in the afternoon. More to that later.

"Kestrel? What in the Grimm's name happened to you?"

These were the words greeting me as I walked through the backdoor of 'Bean Here', with my more than usual disheveled brown hair and a breath so ragged that it could pass as a stuttering engine not willing to start.

"Tried the 'one good deed a day' thing. You see the result."

"Ouch, tough luck there.", an annoying grin danced across his lips.

In return I threw the owner of these words a glare as nasty as I could muster and walked towards the kitchen. I wanted nothing more than to deposit the groceries in their respective places. Like the fridge or the shelves in the storage room.

All of said groceries were, as if through some miracle, still in the bags were they belonged. Seriously, even the sudden arrival of a spaceship declaring that for cataloguing reasons all of us had to receive a probe up our asses couldn't have surprised me more than that.

Half a hour.

I had to run, dodge and weave through crowds which vehemently refused to move or help for half a hour without any pause, narrowly avoiding the five guys chasing me. And their friends who they called as backup after the first ten minutes of trying, and failing, to catch me. At some point they even had a van, giving me a new appreciation for narrow alleys.

Please, answer me this: How cliché did they want to become before they called it quits?

Long chase-to-the-end-of-the-earth-story short which ended with the van being pulled over by the police I managed to escape and got back here as fast as humanly possible to continue with my work. After all it was the early afternoon, the rush hour above all else, and someone had to take care of the customers.

Flint alone couldn't take care of it for long by himself and even though I was annoyed by his antics, his constant teasing and prodding, and wished for nothing more than great misfortune to befall him, I wasn't vindictive enough to let him hanging out there.

That and I didn't want to lose my job and actually get paid. The main reason was definitely the former. Don't look at me like that!

Now, time for these groceries to go where they belong.

 _Put the milk-y in the fridge-y ~_  
 _Followed shortly by the cheese-y ~_  
 _Egg-y, cream-y, all so doozy ~_  
 _Oh so good, I'm getting cozy ~_

 _All the cherries, oh so merry ~_  
 _Stay together in the shelve-y ~_  
 _Next to apples, oh so crunchy ~_  
 _Soon becoming tasty pastries ~_

As I was standing there and humming along to the song in my head while I worked, my mind wondered once again If I had to see a shrink. The answer it came up with was a resounding 'no'. Inventing _awesome_ but embarrassing songs on the spot and singing them in your head was something completely and absolutely normal. Nothing wrong about doing it or with me looking at my mind as a separate entity.

I was sure of that. Definitely. Maybe.

Time flew as I collected my breath and did my task in an almost trance like state of mind. My heart calmed down and my breathing normalized. Once again I was glad that every two days I did cardio and muscle training. Without them I probably would have been in a worse state. The worst case scenario: I could have been caught and ended up as a body in a dumpster.

"Hey, Kestrel. You done?", I was ripped out of my absent state of mind by none other than my boss. Stopping what I was doing I turned my head to the side to look at the one who called me. The only thing I saw was his head sticking through the doorway.

Looking back at my work I realized that yes, I was done. Scratch that, I was way past the point of being done and had started to reorganize the entire shelve. The things currently in my hands were two apples which I put back after considering their placement. After all, I had to go back and man the counter.

"Yep, I am.", I made my way out of the storage room and used the brief walk to make myself presentable again. Which wasn't so hard: Some smoothing out of the clothes, straightening the tie and bringing some order to my hair. I partly failed with the last one, my hair refusing to go under a certain point of messiness.

Nothing I could do about the sweat besides wiping my forehead with a towel. Neutral Deodorant stopped the sweat from being secreted under my armpits. They had really good ones here in Remnant, to the point where they were ludicrously effective. I had run for half a hour and not a single drop of sweat!

A short look at myself. Semi-presentable, which was good enough for me. I wouldn't be more than that.

"Ok, you're good to go.", Flint gave me a look-over and apparently agreed with my assessment.

"Listen up. Nearly all the tables are taken, both indoors and outdoors. I will take the outdoor tables. Think you can manage the floor inside?", I gave him a nod as answer which seemed to please him. At least, if the satisfied grunt he let out was any indication.

"Good good. But please, do me a favor will you? Try to talk instead of using head movements. I would appreciate that.", truly preposterous! They were far more energy efficient than talking. Why should I change to something which wasn't as good?

 _Fool!_

"I will try.", but he was my boss and I had to appease him, even if it was only a little, and so I agreed to trying. Nothing more than that, though.

"Good good." ,how often would you say that, old man? It was something I noticed during the week I have worked for him: He had this verbal tick where he said exactly these two words. THe same word, yes, but still twice. It was rather strange.

Then again, I wasn't one to judge.

And so the work flow I had grown accustomed to over the week took me with it. I walked through the interior of the shop, noted down any order the customers had, brought them what they wanted, refilled, transported empty plates, glasses, cutlery and cups to the kitchen and repeated these over and over and over again.

I didn't lie when I said that this work was relaxing. It truly was. There was not much thinking involved, the different aromas wavered through the air and into my nostrils and caused a pleasant calm to wash through me. I loved it, I was at peace and I could forget the horrible experience from before.

I should have known It wouldn't last.

After two hours, when the amount of orders had declined enough to give me some breathing room, I took the chance and started cleaning a few of the plates, cups and cutlery to use the otherwise wasted free time and, more importantly, occupy my hands with something. It was both more productive and relaxing for me than standing around and doing nothing could have ever been.

For a short time I did nothing than wash, rinse, dry off and repeat. A plate, a fork, a cup, a plate, a spoon, a cup. A cycle of complete and utter repetitiveness which made me lose focus and work on autopilot. Grave mistake.

"Kestrel, special order!"

 _ **HOLY MACARONY!**_

My whole body flinched, I nearly jumped out of my skin and sent a plate I was currently drying off straight into the air.

You asked what that was? It was called Flint Rock, which had appeared once again out of nowhere and had suddenly spoken to me from close proximity. He had done so multiple times already over the course of me working here to teach me to pay attention. Or so he said. Personally, I thought he did it only for his own personal and sick amusement.

With a fury of a thousand suns I whirled around and was ready to give him a piece of my mind when I realized that a plate should have been in my right hand.

Instead of going through with my initial intent my eyes wandered up to watch the plate fly lazily through the air before beginning its descent. They still followed the plate up until Flint caught the plate without even looking and never breaking the self-satisfied grin on his face.

"One of my most esteemed customers wants her favorite. Be the nice guy you are and bring it to her. Table 23. The order is already ready on the counter."

It was probably one of his schemes to get me some social life. I didn't know anyone and apparently he made it his personal mission to get me some acquaintances at least. Grumbling to myself and accepting my fate I did what I had been told. Walking up to the counter I grabbed the order, which turned out to be a plate full of cookies, and began to walk to the aforementioned table to deliver.

In my grumbling I didn't really pay attention to my surroundings, sorely focused on the ludicrousness of it all, because I can get some friends myself thank you very much. Arriving at table 23, which was a booth actually, my focus finally snapped back to reality.

Sitting on one side of the booth was a girl wearing a white cloak who had black hair with red highlights. I had the strangest of feelings, as if I should know her. Judging from the drool coming from her mouth she was the 'esteemed customer' Flint had mentioned. But she wasn't the important table occupant.

Sitting opposite of her, giving me the evil eye with orbs of red and hand once again inching towards the hilt of her blade was no other than _**THE**_ Raven Branwen. I felt the color evacuating my face, trampling over its own body in an attempt to get out as fast as possible to save itself and dying in the process.

"Uhm... your cookies as ordered?"

Fortuna, why did you hate me?


	9. Chapter 9: Masterful Negotiations

It was said that the eyes were the mirrors of our souls and, if one knew how, could tell you everything about their owner.

Be it their current thoughts, their mood, their character; To the skilled individual, all of these laid bare.

I didn't actually remember from which culture this believe originated, but it wasn't really important. What was important would be the applications of this technique in the real world.

Like the bottomless disappointment left unsaid in the eyes of your mother if she caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.

Or the look your best friend gave you which screamed "You idiot!" when you were about to try using a fitness ball like a trampoline and ended up face first in the ground. Or wall. Or Window.

Fortunately for me, I wasn't able to use this skill but could only read a little bit of body language.

Unfortunately, I didn't need it right now to know what this person in front of me was thinking.

It was pretty clear as to what exactly the red eyed girl in front of me was intending to do as she reached for the weapon beside her and gave me the most baleful evil eye in existence. It was as clear as a mountain lake what her thoughts, mood and action to follow was.

Raven wanted nothing more in the world right now then to kill me. Slowly. Painfully. As excruciatingly as possible. And I had no idea as to why. I didn't touch her, I didn't even really speak to her. There was absolutely no reason for her to try that. No reason!

At this point I didn't know that Raven Branwen was someone who defied such silly things like reason on a daily basis. A lesson I learned at a later time.

There was no way for me to stop her at this point. She knew it. I knew it. Everybody knew it.

... except for the girl she was with. Said girl was in what looked like to be her own world, starring at the plate of cookies with a watery mouth and eyes glassed over.

It was at the eyes part where I had to do a mental spit take. I completely forgot about Raven and simply stared at the two orbs residing in the sockets of her skull.

For they were silver in color.

Silver eyes.

Silver.

 _HOLY! SHIT!_

Had you at some point the chance to experience one of these moments where everything simply came together, like pieces of a huge puzzle, and as if a light bulb was lit inside your head everything suddenly made sense? Because right now, here and then, I had one exactly like that.

Summer Rose.

The girl sitting opposite of Raven and vegetating along in a cookie induced coma was Summer Rose. Ruby Rose's mom. And now it made sense why Raven looked so young: It's because she was. Summer Rose was still a young adult, Raven was still a young adult and the rest of the older generation in RWBY were probably also young adults.

I arrived here years before the actual events of the show.

And that made me angry and cuss in my head at whoever was responsible for this mess. 'Cause How fucked up was that? The only advantage I could have had in this world, the foreknowledge, had been reduced to the total worth of zero for at least two next decades. _Nada. Nil. Niente._ And with it my chances for survival were firmly diminished.

 _Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Da-_

 _ ***SHIIIIING***_

Both my and Summer's heads snapped towards Raven at the sound of her sword being unsheathed. A long single-edged blade as red as blood was slowly being pulled free. Summer's faces decided to copy mine and lost all the color it had. The look of remembrance in Summer's eye told me the entire story of what was about to happen.

I only had one thing I could do: I slammed the plate filled with cookies on the table, startling them and made for a hasty retreat.

 **"I STILL HAVE STUFF TO DO SOGOODBYEANDHAVEANICEDAY!"**

Storage room, sweet protection-granting storage room, wait for me!

Of course I had no chance in hell to actually escape.

I might have startled her, she might have been sitting in a booth, but she was still a trained warrior who fought monsters on a daily basis and came out unscathed at the end of it. It was to no one's surprise that after only three steps a hand caught the back of my shirt's collar and pulled back.

My feet left the ground, a sudden rush of air and the next moment I found myself with my back on the booth's table. I didn't hit anything besides the tabletop since Summer reacted faster than anyone else would have in this situation and saved her cookies from being crushed under me. Glad she had her priorities straight.

I tried to get up but was stopped by a hand pressing against my throat because of course that would be the part of my body to be threatened first. Go figure. At least she couldn't draw her sword anymore since without the hand on my throat Raven wasn't able to.

"N-Now, we don't want to do something we are going to regret later, would we?", my voice was one big quivering mess. I had to scrape up and gather all the mush which was the so called bravery of mine in order to not faint on the spot.

"I am not going to regret it.", That was cold! With anyone else I would have taken that as a morbid joke but with her? I had never seen eyes as honest as this! A baby couldn't have more honest eyes!

I was going to die! If I didn't do anything I was going to die!

Reaching for the last straw I had in my sight my eyes rolled to the side and focused their panic filled gaze at Summer. The same girl who didn't do anything besides sitting there in a shocked state and looking at the scene in front of her with the same look in hers and a sense of defeat.

Apparently, Summer was unable to actually do or think of anything for she, too, was scared of Raven. There was no help coming from this side anytime soon. I had nothing else left besides winging it. The second time that day. But surely it would work, the second time being the charm and all that. At least I hoped so...

And was Summer eating cookies right now?! While I was under threat of impending death via her teammate's iron claw?! WAS SHE FOR REAL?!

"Can you at least tell me why you do this?", I frantically asked her whilst doing my best not to move. Of course my voice sounded rather croaky from the hand restricting my air way. "Because where I stand there is no reason for this whatsoever! I never did anything to you!"

"Earlier."

I knew it. I freakin' knew it! There was no way me trying to do something nice for another could possibly lead to a good ending. It just wasn't possible. I should just stop doing altruistic things altogether if that was the result I got!

...Then again, my mother would have told me off if I actually did it. Brutally, at that.

"W-what about it? Is trying to save idiots from certain death a crime now?", boy was I glad I managed to find my voice somewhere in the middle of it. Or else this entire situation could have been a lot more painful.

"Meaning?", the pressure on my throat was slowly released allowing me to breath normally again. With her hand still resting on my larynx I was not completely in the green yet but: Progress!

Also, would it kill her to speak in complete sentences? Wasn't I supposed to be the one of few words? Don't steal my job, birdie!

"I don't know about others, but usually I am one to stop people from committing suicide.", judging by the look she gave me, Raven still had trouble understanding what I meant. "Those idiots trying to have some 'fun' with you?"

For a brief moment understanding flashed in her eyes before it was replaced by distrust. Was I really that untrustworthy? Yes, I didn't talk much and yes, I didn't do anything to alleviate suspicions of any kind but come on! Give me at least some benefit of the doubt!

"Wait wait wait!", Summer finally decided to barge in. A win, at last! A round of twenty questions was worlds better than having a crushed windpipe. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Earlier today when I waited for you in front of the gun store.", Well done for giving Summer context, Raven, but you could be a little bit more forthcoming next time, please? To speed things up? I knew you wouldn't really mind, it's just that I wanted to not be threatened with a crushed Adam's apple anymore.

"What happened?", it looked like Summer managed to catch my drift. "Because that much couldn't have happened. I was only away for 15 minutes."

"Oh nothing much...", at this point I couldn't keep the frustration and other things boiling up in me at bay anymore, just like the words starting to spew out of my mouth."Just some suicidal morons who think a armed and scary girl with a violence problem would be _awesome_ to approach."

Summer's eyes widened to such a degree that in any other situation, it would have been comical.

"YOU TRIED TO APPROACH RAVEN?!"

" **NOT ME, IDIOT!** I was the one trying to save them!"

 **"WHO ARE YOU CALLING 'IDIOT', IDIOT!"**

I had the feeling this impromptu shouting match would have continued, would it not have been for Raven's _incredible_ talents in mediation. And with talents in mediation I meant literally stopping one participant from participating via one-handed strangling.

My eyes wandering up towards hers was more of a reflex than anything else. Maybe my body had already accepted its demise and only wanted to look at the reason for its end. No one knew. The only thing I did know for sure was that the eyes greeting me were of the probing kind.

"Saving them?"

After a nod of mine the pressure was once again released.

"Yes. Doing the humanitarian thing and all that jazz."

"Not me?", oh gods was that one of these unanswerable questions? Was this one of the 7 great hurdles a man must face in life? Just what was the right thing to say to Raven? And what was the absolute worst? I had to carefully chose my next words. Words which would, hopefully, appease the scary and independent warrior in front of me.

"Yes, them. Not you. I couldn't care less about your safety."

 _Nailed it!_


	10. Chapter 10: A Beginning's conclusion

Memories were a funny thing.

Day after day you trusted them, nurtured the precious ones and always remembered the bad ones to avoid repeating the incidents entailed. They were what made you you and allowed for good conversation, though the latter was not that important I could admit.

But even though they were such an important part of our lives, of our very being, now and then they would play pranks on us or even outright betray us.

A Deja vu was a good example for that. The feeling of already having experienced the event currently unfolding. We didn't travel in time or any silly thing like that, but we merely mistook a similar event in our past for the current one.

Simply forgetting an important appointment was another example and probably more common, just like forgetting a word midsentence was. It happened to all of us no matter how much we wanted to deny it.

For the entire rest of my life I wouldn't remember what had happened on the fateful second half of the day I met the S and R of STRQ. The only thing I knew was that something painful had transpired, and I only knew this because of my aching everything when I woke up the next day.

There was only one source of information I got a slight idea from, with this source being Flint. Summer would not talk about it, as well as the other costumers for they all were too traumatized by the event. Raven being Raven I didn't want to take any chances with her.

And so I had to rely on Flint...

To make a complicated, mysterious and overly dramatic story short, mostly because I did not believe the one he gave me was actually the truth, here were his accounts of the event:

Flint had heard a series of loud sounds coming from our corner of the shop. Fearing for his shop Flint had hasted towards it without hesitation and had been greeted by one of the, in his own words, most fascinating scenes he had ever witnessed.

I had been laying on the table, looking half dead, bleeding from my then broken nose and have been transformed into one giant bruise. At this point in time I had, thankfully, already been unconscious.

Raven had her sword drawn and had been trying her hardest to repurpose me into the biggest kebab ever created with the most furious of looks on her face which was directed at my broken form.

Summer, being the angel she ever was, had done her best to stop Raven from making her plan a reality by holding the taller girl back despite the tears of utter fear in the corner of her eyes and the fact that her body had shivered from utter terror.

The three, now four, of us had now been completely alone in the shop for everyone had fled the scene as fast as they had been able to. Impressive was the fact that they had left behind money to pay for their meals. Our customers were such a nice bunch.

Flint had managed to successfully quell Raven's anger and, once again, treated my wounds after the girls' departure. Of course, Summer had apologized repeatedly for her teammates behavior.

Not that she actually thought about trying to change it. Or that it was even possible. The girl in question was Raven Branwen, after all. Her changing her behavior was as likely as pigs growing wings and being able to fly.

For being Raven's team leader, I felt only pity for Summer.

The entire rest of the day I was vehemently refusing to leave my unconscious state, even when Flint pulled out the smelling salt. I just didn't want to wake up; His theory being my body refusing to wake up for fear of continued terror and pain.

Which of course was bollocks. As if something like that could ever be true.

No costumers and no anything that day meant he could close down earlier and focus on other tasks like taking stock and all those mundane things which had to be done. Now and then he came up to my apartment and checked up on me.

I woke up the next day.

Standing up, taking a shower and eating breakfast without any interruptions or anything really was the best experience I had since coming to this world. The bandage on my nose was a little inconvenience when faced with no problems whatsoever.

For the entire portion of the day I had to do my share of the work no problems were coming up, too. If I wasn't me with the knowledge my life taught me about itself, it would have been like living on cloud nine.

Sadly, me living my life I didn't have this luxury. I spent my time jumpy and prepared to attack whatever misfortune would come my way, instead. But no matter how paranoid I was, no matter how often I would take extra care with every cutlery, every order, every glass, and every plate, nothing happened. No slipups, no punks trashing the store and no alien invasion.

And just like that the evening came, the store was closed and the work of the day was done. Being sleepy from all the entire ordeal, the work and the happenings of yesterday, I wanted nothing more than fall into my bed and relax.

Well, that had been the plan initially if it wasn't for Flint ringing the doorbell and inviting himself in with a beer crate. Not being able to say no to the silent offer I conceded and ended up sitting on a sun lounger on the balcony, with Flint's standing beside mine, beer in hand.

"Flint, I had my misgivings about you.", Taking a sip from the cold beer I relaxed back into my seating arrangement. "But with this you are now officially my most favorite person on this planet."

The view over the city from up here was _truly marvelous_. Even more so since we could watch the sun going down and painting the sky in flames. _Truly marvelous_ , indeed.

"What misgivings?", his voice held a tinge of amusement. "Need I remind you that without me, there would be no beer for you to drink?"

What he meant was the fact that in Vale alcohol was only legal to buy and drink after you turned twenty-one. Something I wasn't used to but well, what can I do? Another thing I wasn't used to was the beer itself: It wasn't that good compared to the beer I drank in my past but beggars couldn't be choosers, right?

"Did I say misgivings? How silly of me, I meant virtues. Yes, that's what I meant...", the only answer I got was a snort from my drinking buddy. A small silence followed, only broken by the occasional sound of drinking.

"Can I ask you a question?", The only reaction I got was a affirmative hum.

"Ask away."

"Why did she do that to me?"

A second went by. Then, without, any warning a cascade of laughter broke free from his mouth. Going on and on it just didn't stop. I didn't know how much time it took, maybe around two minutes, before he managed to catch himself. And with catching himself I meant getting himself to the point where only chuckles escaped him.

"I fail to see what's so funny about getting beaten to an inch of my life.", needless to say I didn't see the funny side of it.

"Sorry, sorry. My bad.", another round of chuckles. "I just can't believe someone that clueless exists."

Hey, I was not that clueless!

"Just tell me where I went wrong. because from where I stand, It wasn't the wrong thing to say."

"And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?", the raised eyebrow spoke volumes about what he thought.

"She is a huntress-in-training, at least she looked that part. She also acted like a warrior who was confident in her abilities, independent and prideful.", Flint nodded along with each point I made so I probably was right with these observations. "Add to that the way she reacted when she thought I was trying to help her and you can easily draw the conclusion that saying the complete opposite would be the right choice."

Flint shook his head. "No, it's not. Also, you didn't even say what you said just now."

"Huh?"

"You didn't say the opposite. What you said can be broken down to 'I don't care what happens to you for you are not worth it in my eyes.'. I think there isn't a single person in Remnant who wouldn't deck you for that. Say that to someone like her and the only thing I can say is 'good luck!'."

We both imagined what Raven had done to me and took one long gulp from our respective beers.

"Then what would have been the right thing to say?", I asked him whilst still trying to wrap my mind around it. Why did dealing with people's emotions had to be that hard?

"Something along the lines of 'You are the last person in need of protection.'. Give her the feeling you are respecting her strength. She will take something like that much, much better."

Yeah, I could have formulated that better, couldn't I?

I blame my former surroundings for that. Dealing with people like her who immediately went for the kill so to speak was not something I was used to. Before in the past people only got angry, not violent, and I had the chance to clarify when they asked for the meaning behind my words. With her, not so much.

"Don't stress yourself too much over it.", apparently he knew what I was thinking right now for some for me unexplainable reason. "Just don't repeat the same mistake again."

"... You know, ever so slowly its getting creepy."

"The mindreading again?", Flint threw a smirk in my direction which he knew aggravated me. I didn't dignify it with a reaction for you shall not feed the troll.

"Yup."

Once again, silence. Something I welcomed. Sitting here, with beer in hand and nothing to do but watching the sunset was, I needed stress it once again, _truly marvelous_. It was as if all the worries I had were simply washed away by the display. It made me feel safe and secure.

Finally I felt like good things could happen.


	11. Chapter 11: An average Workday

Let's talk about working morale.

Working morale was this wonderful and mesmerizing thing which kept our world from collapsing under its own weight. All or at least most people had some form of it, if only to avoid getting chewed out by their parents.

Or superiors. They existed, too. But parents were the one you had to look out for. A parent's dressing down was scarier than any enraged employer could be. I was sure that anyone, you included, would agree with me.

But back to working morale.

Like I said before, it was what kept us from entering some form of apocalyptic world. Well, more apocalyptic than Remnant already was anyway. Similar to basically everything in existence, there were multiple levels to it.

Seated on the very top were the workaholics who just couldn't stop working and expected the same from you. They were, in general, very annoying.

Under them came the motivated who took what they did seriously and wanted you to work alongside them, but not to the extent workaholics did. They, too, were annoying.

Then there were the normal workers, who did their job because someone had to do it or they needed to earn money to survive. Most of them were annoying, though not as much as the above mentioned since they usually did not expect you to work as much as they did.

The last group of people, composed out of the unmotivated, were separated into two sub categories: Group A, who worked begrudgingly and with no vigor whatsoever because someone had somehow managed to make them work and Group B, the ones who did not work no matter what.

Group B could be annoying, mainly if you were a member of Group A, since they would not help out even if it meant the end of the world, leaving you with all the work. As such, friction in between unmotivated people of different camps was quite common and led to a series of epic, listless battles to see which side could avoid work better.

For them, laziness became a sport.

As for me, I considered myself to be a member of Group A with the special talent to hide my thoughts and current mood behind a smile. I was especially proud of it since I was the type of person with a working morale no one got annoyed from. If people were annoyed, then only because I was actively trying to annoy them.

"Kestrel, two cinnamon sweet buns, table 7."

So it came to no one's surprise that I accepted my fate, put on a smile and got to work. Two cinnamon sweet rolls on one plate each, two table napkins and off I went. This whole bringing food to a table was at this point second nature.

I even started to balance multiple plates with one hand which turned out to be not as hard as I initially thought: You only had to find the right balance once. And since it freed one of my hand I could fulfill other tasks at the same time, like picking up empty plates from vacant tables.

Now, do not make the mistake to think that I was actually an overeager employee who wanted to help out more than anything else. You couldn't be farther from the truth. The only thing I was would be efficient, for efficiency is the only way to do lazy right.

This was my life philosophy.

Laziness was the reason why we invented anything; We simply didn't want to make the extra effort. You could say that laziness is what enabled us to have the prosperity we had in our lives today. As such, I happily embraced my own inner languishment in order to reach my own prosperity.

Yes, prosperity was my reason for being lazy and definitely not my wish to not be troubled by troublesome things and to simply live the rest of my life as a couch potato...

 _Anyway_ , since I wanted to spent only the barest minimum of energy on my work to laze around later I did it as efficiently as humanly possible. One of the steps in fulfilling this goal was to avoid running around needlessly.

Which brought me back to my original point: Clearing the tables I walked by whilst bringing the order to table 7 which later would turn out to host a familiar face. Ever so slowly the mountain of dirty tableware in my right hand started to grow until I called quits at 15 plates and six cups. Just in time with my arrival at my destination, too.

Damn, was I good.

"Hello, Kestrel. How are you today?", this was Auntie Violet greeting me in her usual upbeat manner. She was an elderly woman with graying brown hair and blue eyes. Somehow she managed to be always extremely friendly, was a often seen costumer and quickly took a liking to me. Why I called her Auntie in my head? Because she remembered me of one of my own aunts.

Something I would never tell anyone. I wouldn't be able to live if someone knew I did that.

"I am feeling great, thank you for asking.", I didn't even notice my smile turning into a genuine one. Auntie Violet was one of those people who made you smile no matter what. It made me feel a little bit uncomfortable if I had to be honest. "I take it you ordered this?"

I raised the two buns as emphasis and got a happy nod in return from her and the woman sitting opposite of her. What, you thought she was alone? Ordering two cinnamon sweet buns at once? You fool!

"Yes, those would be ours. Thank you, my dear."

Gingerly I placed the two plates in front of the women, gave them a quick Bon appétit and was about to walk away. Of course, it was not that easy.

"But where are our Manners?", Auntie said and gestured to her companion. "May I introduce to you, this is my younger sister Rosie. She returned today from Atlas."

Realizing I wasn't going to be able to get back to work anytime soon, I turned to the other person sitting at the table and looked at her for the first time for real. She was around Violet's age, had red hair and the same blue eyes her sister had.

"Hi, I am Rosie Everfield. A pleasure.", An easy-going smile pulled the corners of her mouth up as she offered me her hand. In comparison to Violet she felt more reclusive, a contrast often displayed by younger siblings of people who were outgoing like Violet.

I should know, for I was one of them.

"It is a pleasure for me, too. My name is Kestrel Harvest.", a firm handshake was traded, which I was surprised by since it came from an elderly lady. In fact it was too strong for someone her age. Unless...

"Are you a huntress, by any chance?", hearing my words Rosie's smile grew wider and she looked pleased by my question for some reason or another.

"One of the best of my generation, actually."

"I am honored.", this line was delivered as dry and as deadpan as it could get. It seemed like no matter where we lived, be it on Earth or on Remnant, people still bragged about their achievements. Which made them the ideal target for sober comments and deadpan humor.

"You forgot to add that you're retired, dear sister of mine.", Violet didn't want to be outmatched by me and gave her own super dry comment.

Turned out we both had a bad habit of commenting what others said in the appropriate manner. I knew there was something we shared.

"And I can still kick some major butt.", Rosie countered in a very elegant and refined manner. Elegant and refined, indeed. And funny how fast the image of someone could change. Under this reclusive demeanor was a highly competitive sprit, or so it seemed.

"Of course you can.", Violet was patting Rosie's arm like one would a child's. A pout which didn't look out of place, somehow, was the answer followed by a raised finger pointing in Auntie's face.

"Now, listen here..."

I, ever being the opportunist, took the chance which was given to me and made myself scarce. After all, I still had work to do. Standing around and talking with guests was something not very efficient. Lazy, yes, but I was more than lazy, I was lazily efficient. Something which was not to be sullied, with my honor was riding on it.

Not that I had much of it to begin with but who cared about such minor details?

The rest of the day flew by in a jiffy, though there was one thing. Did you at some point in your live worked as service on some form of event? Because if you did then you should know how aggravating costumers sometimes could be. This time it was not any different.

"Yes, you can use the toilets without paying a fee."

"No, your son cannot try his hands on brewing coffee."

"No sir, we do not have salad as appetizer."

"You may feel free to loudly sing your daughter a birthday song."

"No madam, we do not serve any alcoholic beverages."

"No, I am not allowed to reserve a table for you in advance."

"Please keep your hands to yourself and away from my buttocks and other parts of my body."

Customers were stupid and weird . Sorry, but it was the truth.


	12. Chapter 12: One Step forward

**Hello again.**

 **Many of you (At least I hope so) are wondering why almost two months have passed without a new chapter being released. I am going to cut straight to the point: Life happened and I simply did not have the time to get to it. I can also not promise that it will get better, because quite frankly, I am not sure how much time I have for writing right now. The only thing I can do is hope that my schedule does not get messed up much more.**

 **And now, straight to the chapter!**

* * *

At some points in your life something would happen which was fully out of your control.

It could be anything, really, from a sudden unforeseen and not wanted pregnancy, a car suddenly driving onto the main road even though you have the right of way, forcing you to brake, and possibly crushing into you anyway. Hard.

There was nothing you could do about it but to accept these happenings as life being life, with all its unfairness and scariness, make the best of it and continue on your merry way. This was the rule of thumb for most people; If life gave you lemons and so on and forth. And it wasn't like there were only bad repercussions.

The pregnancy could lead to your relationship to grow deeper and stronger.

The car crashing into yours enabled you to earn a large chunk of money.

But of course, like with most things in life, there were some situations you couldn't salvage no matter what. A good example for that would be bird crap hitting your head with dead-on accuracy. Since you where on your way home, alas on the street, there was not much you could do and the only option you had left was to walk the rest of it in bitter resignation.

Legends say that was the birth of the 'walk of shame', only for it to be taken out of context and used for another scenario later.

I had reached one such point. Out of nowhere, too. Like it always turned out to be with these events, I didn't see it coming. At all. It caught me on my back foot. Let me tell you what it entailed.

It was such a special point of my life, too.

You see, my efficient way of working at 'Bean Here' was so well received that the amount of tips I received plus a bonus from Flint here and there for a job well done meant I could buy the scroll earlier than anticipated. After only three weeks of work, to be exact.

Who knew the inhabitants of Remnant were such a benevolent bunch when it came to giving tips?

And the good news didn't stop there: There was no team STRQ in sight for the entirety of the two weeks. Like, at all. And no other plot relevant character to boot, either. It was the most peaceful life I could imagine here in Remnant. It was simply beautiful.

Ahem.

Back to the whole scroll thing. After another successful day at work I excused myself and, with Flint's blessings and directions, walked towards the nearest electronics store to buy my very first scroll. It almost felt like I was buying my very first motorbike all over again.

The most important thing with buying after quality was variety. This rule applied to cars, motorbikes, parts for your computer, food, clothes; The gist of it was: The rule applied to a lot of things. One of these things were cell phones or, in Remnant, scrolls.

The variety of scrolls and additional accessories and attachments was truly amazing. Four different sizes of scrolls, forty-one different colors, a shit-ton of additional ware I had no idea about their purpose or usage and much, much more.

If I had to sum it all up in one word, this word would be 'Heaven'.

The time to chose the next step into the next chapter of my life has come.

A black frame? Or maybe the classic white? A tasteful composition of white and a subtle orange? Red versus blue themed? I even found something so predictable it was already unexpected: A RWBY themed one. I shit you not. It laid there in front of me, teasing me, asking me _'And? What are you gonna do about it?'_.

What the for the love of anything whole was wrong with this world?!

Besides Grimm, of course. And the constant death. And the wars.

...

Yeah, that was a stupid question.

Deciding it just wasn't worth it to rip my last remaining specks of sanity apart over this I picked the white and orange one and called it quits. I also made sure that it was one of the models as big as smart phones and which had all the important features.

Like access to the CCT.

For those of you who didn't know what the CCT was, basically Remnant's equivalent of the internet. Something I was deprived off. No endless information, no funny moments compilations, no laughing at dumbasses. Nothing.

I couldn't live for much longer with no internet. Absolutely not. The last weeks had been the definition of 'dry spell' for me, and the worst part of my life up to this point. Yes, I rated it higher than getting trashed by Raven. Mostly because I couldn't remember anything about it but I was sure that even if I could remember one fragment of the hell I was put through, the list wouldn't change.

I was desperate, ok?! Totally normal state to be in! There was nothing wrong with that!

A small look at the price tag and it looked like that was all I could get this month: 450 Lien for the scroll plus charging cable. Which brought the contents of my wallet down to 65 Lien. Barely enough to buy food until I got my first official paycheck.

Sacrifices had to be made.

Parting ways with most of my current wealth and a few imaginary tears I finally was the proud owner of a brand-new scroll. And a functioning CCT aka Internet access. Now the only thing I had to do was get home and charge the bad boy up.

Leaving the now 450 Lien richer owner of the store behind I walked with a quick pace towards the door, my body brimming with anticipation. Today was going to be a good day!

Why did I have to challenge fate on every occasion I got? I was so incredibly stupid. Seriously stupid.

Surprise, surprise, Lady Fate didn't even flinch and wasted no time sending me a response. Remember how I talked about one of the golden rules of life, the one saying that you 'will always see someone twice in your life'?

This rule didn't just apply to people who were, in comparison, tame. Now, I would be the last person to call Raven Branwen tame, but at least you could talk with her. A conversation was not impossible. At least I hoped it was.

But then there were the kind of people who were simply not made for anything requiring even the smallest bit of human interaction.

And so, only 40 meters down the road, I bumped into a person. It was your typical event in urban areas. There was nothing special about it. You would apologize to each other for the collision, throw in a few niceties and continue on your merry way.

Of course, when I ended up in such a situation Lady Fate decided to make it one of the biggest drama acts that I had come across in my admittedly not so long life. And I was also extremely clichéd.

"What's your problem, huh?!", the person I bumped into shouted into my face. Me, being the nice person I was, immediately went on to apologize but stopped when I got a good look of his face. _No. way!_ was the first thought shooting through my mind.

He, too, paused when he got his first good look of my face. Shortly afterwards, it contorted into one of the most rage-filled grimaces I had had the honor to witness.

My face contorted too, but it was more of a What-the-fuck-did-I-do-to-deserve-this-face. Because the person I bumped into, in a random street which was for a large part empty and for that reason perfect for what was to come, was none other than the leader of the same group which tried their luck with Raven.

Judging from his expression, yes, he did remember me and yes, he was still not happy about me doing what I did. It came to no one's surprise that before I had the chance to step back his hands already found my collar. People with no impulse control like this simpleton really wasted no time doing what they wanted.

"Finally found you you fuck!", a little bit of spit accompanied these words as he leaned in close to my face. We were about the same height I just noticed. He had maybe an inch or so on me. Also, he was broader and had more muscle.

This evening really didn't go like I wanted it to go.

"Is time for payback, bitch!"

There were many things which had scared me. And there were many things which continued to scare me.

Rifles pointed at my face? Scary.

A truck driving towards me at full speed without any chance of stopping in time? Scary.

A fall towards certain doom in the form of large spikes or something equally deadly? Scary.

But this punk right now, after I had the pleasure of experiencing something like Raven's wrath? Not so much. And considering the fact that I couldn't even remember the ordeal made the entire thing even more curious and showed just how much scarier a huntress, even one in training, truly was when angered.

It was one of the things I felt grateful towards Raven later in life.

So, instead of cowering in fear like I would have done before I was carefully analyzing the situation I was in. There was only one possible option I could take. Getting out of his grasp was not doable.

His hands were like clamps, there was no chance for me to rip myself out of his grabbers. Talking also wasn't something viable judging from the storm of curses he spew into my face. Me not reacting to it made him even more angrier and the thug looked more and more ready to become actually violent.

And I didn't want to get beaten to a pulp. I had been wrecked two weeks ago and I had no interest whatsoever in refreshing my non-existent memory of the event.

There was only one course of action I could take: To be the one who initiated it and to end it quickly. That was the only option I could see.

Just like that, I acted.

Under normal circumstances, I probably would have never landed the first hit. But unknowingly, or to be more accurate since he most likely didn't expect me to throw the first punch the man in front of me gave the perfect opening.

I could only speak from my personal experience, but people who had grabbed someone had an dislike for letting go of their target. Instead they chose to leave there hands on the other's body. Most likely to restrict them, some form of displaying dominance.

It disadvantaged someone who wanted to flee. In that regard holding onto someone was advantageous.

But the advantage ended when the victim decided to attack instead. And don't even start me on the way he actually held me. Instead of having his elbows in front of his chest to have something to block, his arms formed an 'O' with his elbows out to the sides.

He didn't even had the chance to react as my left hand shot upwards, through his arms and nailed the underside of his chin with an upward palm strike. Why a palm strike, you asked? I didn't want to hurt my hand unnecessarily, and punching someone's face with a fist when your body wasn't used to hit hard things only damaged your knuckles for no reason. A palm strike was much better in that regard.

It had the desired effect and stunned him briefly. Which was enough for my right palm to find his solar plexus and knock the wind out of his chest. But he still hadn't let go of me. Before I could land the next my opponent recovered and rammed his forehead into mine.

He hadn't thought that one through. You see, head butting someone usually tended to hurt the one doing it, too. Do it wrong and you would be in the same boat as your target. And so, instead of only hurting me his attack backfired. His grasp loosened and he let go, both of us stumbling back stunned and holding our heads.

I saw stars from the pain and had to force myself to look up at my attacker. Just in time to see a fist coming straight towards my face. The extremity hit home dead on and my nose gave in with a sickening crunch. A short cry of pain escaped my lips. Instead of crumbling down from the pain I stepped back to make some room and to observe.

There was blood running down the corner of his mouth. It seemed like he had bit into his tongue when my first attack had made contact in the middle of him talking.

The thug didn't hesitate and rushed forward. His right arm arched back and his fist was ready to be thrown. In response I got into a crude stance: Arms lifted, left leg forward and right leg angled to the side.

In hindsight, starting the whole ordeal might not have been the best idea I had. But I was sick and tired of it. One bad event after the next, no pause and no time to breath. That was the way I felt about the weeks I had spent here in Remnant.

Enough was enough. I needed to blow off some steam and damn the consequences.


	13. Chapter 13: One Step back

**Hello once more. As you may have noticed, this chapter is actually on time. Go me! And it only took an appointment to be cancelled! Thankfully it was neither that important or something I particularly looked forward to so there is that.**

 **NOW, THE STORY SHALL CONTINUE!**

* * *

All throughout history humankind had displayed its many different sides for us to see.

Be it in the form of _charitable 'heroes'_ or _greedy and evil 'villains'_ , simple people who never achieved anything great in their lives but simply wanted to live and those who managed to shake civilization at its very core, bringing change.

Humans were an extremely diverse bunch. No one could deny this fact. But there was one thing which accompanied us all throughout history, the unwanted silent companion which spoke up on some occasions. Someone we never managed to shake off, who was always there no matter how much we struggled to leave him behind.

Their name was War.

No matter how much we turned back time, no matter on which part of humanity we focused on, war was always there. It seemed like conflict was in our genes, an instinct which was always there, just underneath the surface, waiting for the right time to reveal itself.

It didn't care for the reason: _'Good'_ intentions leaded to war the same way _'evil'_ ones did. The road to hell was paved with good intentions. Or greed. That was always the case and would always be. The development of conflict was always the same: We perceived something we didn't like and then we acted upon this feeling.

It was almost like we wanted war. We simply needed a reason, something to justify our violent tendencies. And this reason we found again and again. And with every reason, a new war sparked into existence. Our entire history could be described as a giant conflict with pauses in-between to catch our breaths and to find a new thing to wage war over.

It was both sad and sickening.

Thankfully, not every conflict was on a larger scale or we would have been done for a long time ago. The conflict I was in now, for example, was small. There were no weapons being fired and no organized ranks on either parties' side.

It was a brawl, really.

The male in front of me came closer and closer. the arm he had drawn back for a punch flew forward. I waited for the right moment. The fist came closer and closer. And then it passed my own. Redirecting it with my left arm to the left I avoided another nasty bruise on my face. My foot lashed out and kicked him in his knee, hard enough to send his leg back.

He stumbled whilst he was still moving forward.

Even when I was still drawing it back my other leg shot upwards in hopes of making contact with his left thigh. It was stopped prematurely by his other fist finding my stomach with enough force to make me bend over.

My attacker's body crashed into mine and send us both towards the ground. Instead of giving in I grabbed his left wrist and pressed my lower leg into his stomach. Hitting the ground with my back I heaved him over me, my hold on him ensuring that he met the ground face-first.

Instead of rolling with him I took the full impact, only ensuring that the back of my skull didn't make contact with the pavement. I had to make some room again. Getting up as quickly as I could I turned around just in time to deflect another blow.

A nice muster of the pavement shone on his face in a bright red, with some gravel sticking to his face here and there. My opponent looked positively angry, alright. Sadly, he was not as stupid as I had hoped I realized as another of punches was blocked: He didn't rush in anymore, instead going just in range to hit. It made countering hard.

A fact I was made painfully aware of when one particularly nasty punch managed to break through and once again my face was the target, this time my jaw. A new wave of pain hit me, accompanied with a short disorientation and a lapse of attention. My head had to endure much that day.

I only was away for maybe two seconds, but that was enough. In one moment I was standing, the next I was on the ground with his hands around my throat, strangulating me. If he had known what exactly he should have done, I would not have survived right then and there.

Crushing my larynx would have worked just as well as cutting off the blood flow to my brain. And even if I hadn't died, at least the latter would have caused permanent damage. But just cutting off my airway? That wasn't that serious. Don't get me wrong, it was as painful as all hell, but it took at least one minute to make someone lose unconsciousness and then more to kill.

One minute was enough. I tried my best not to panic and lashed out with my arms instead. No, it was not just some random lashing out. There was one part on his body which was easily accessible for me in our current position. And no, I wasn't talking about his groin. Even in the position I was in right now, I had to honor the gentlemen's agreement.

I aimed for his temples instead. Hitting both sides of his head disoriented him and made his hands' grip loosen. The chance was used and I ripped his hands away from my throat before head butting him. Only, I didn't aim for his forehead but instead mine collided with his nose.

When forehead and nose made contact with each other, it shouldn't have surprised anyone which body part gave in. Sitting up reflexively he presented me with his stomach which I gladly took advantage of. I punched him with all the force I could muster. Once again someone bend over from a punch in the gut. This time I took hold of his neck and with one abrupt movement rolled us both over.

Now I was on top.

I didn't know what happened then. Maybe it was the adrenaline rushing through my veins or the aftershock I had from being nearly suffocated. Or maybe both. But at this moment I only acted on primal instincts.

Even though I didn't register the pain at the moment, my body still didn't want to get hurt anymore. So I trashed him. I worked on his temples, attacked again and again and when he had raised his arms to protect his head, instead of stopping, my focus went down a little to the soft parts of his upper torso.

He buckled in hopes of getting me off but I didn't let him and concentrated on his abs, forcing him down again.

This continued. And continued. I didn't know how long I barraged him with punches. For me and probably also for him, it seemed like an eternity. I only stopped when I had come back to my senses only to be greeted by the lightly bloodied form of my opponent and the pain all over my body. It looked like I had used my knuckles judging from the cracked and bleeding skin on them.

With a stagger I heaved myself up from my now beaten opponent. Black spots danced through my vision and I felt sick. If the cause for it was the punishment my head had taken or the knowledge of what I have done, I wasn't sure. A short check to see if he was breathing told me that yes, I didn't just commit homicide. At least something positive to think about.

When I dragged myself towards home the last thing I heard just after I had walked around the corner was the surprised and worried voices of his friends. A sudden rush of guilt hit me when they started shouting.

It only nurtured the feeling of wrongness. Going that far hadn't been necessary. He hadn't been able to fight back after the multiple strikes to his head. He has been out could for good.

For the first time in a long while I was disgusted by myself.


	14. Chapter 14: A different Perspective

"... And I am so sorry that we couldn't come earlier but Beacon really isn't that easy when it comes to schoolwork and..."

Flint nodded along without really listening to Summer as she talked on and on and talked herself somewhere. Where that somewhere was, he had no idea. But it would be rude to interrupt.

Currently they were in his coffee shop after he had already closed for the day. Would it have been anyone else, he would have told the to suck it and try the next morning. But that was Summer and he couldn't say no to her.

So he played the part of the polite listener and thought about the subject at hand instead of paying much attention to facts Summer had already told him ten minutes ago. Flint loved that girl, really he did, but the moment Summer had to talk whilst flustered the ever-increasing speed and endless repetition of the same things made listening to her a little annoying.

Not that he would ever admit it.

"... and after a nice long talk, well it was a talk since someone was talking, and getting to the core of it..."

And the topic at hand was, of course, the brand new help he had hired not so long ago. Kestrel really turned out to be more interesting the more he heard from and about him. If that even was his real name. His name wasn't that important. Important was that finally, he had the full story of what had happened between him and Raven.

For Flint, it was one of the funniest things he had ever heard. He also realized how fucked up that sounded to most people, but he couldn't help it. So many misunderstandings in a row...

If he had not seen the results himself Flint would have never believed it. And all it took was his little protégé to try to do something nice. This settled it: He was going to keep him just for that. Flint was really happy now that he had pulled strings to get Kestrel a Visa smoothly and without any problems.

The boy was just so entertaining. It also helped that he was actually doing good work, even though he radiated a feeling of strangeness like no other person. Well, no other person Flint knew personally. Which only made him even more interesting.

"... and well we talked and Raven is sorry for what she did well she didn't say anything but I am the team leader and as team leader I understand what my team is thinking, obviously, and..."

His eyes wandered to the three others in the room. Team STRQ, huh? He had to admit, for a second year team they weren't bad. A little rough around the edges, but not bad at all. And quite peculiar, too. They would grow into a very capable team. He truly believed that.

If only they managed to improve their team dynamic, there wouldn't be anything for them to fear. Though, that was too much to ask because nothing is ever that easy. Summer, the leader who was too self-conscious for her own good. Taiyang, who was still a little too normal to really fit in this weird bunch, though he did make significant progress.

"...and we would really like to apologize and make up and get to know each other all of that but of course only if he wants to..."

And then there were Qrow and Raven, the Branwen Twins.

Those two definitely were something. He wasn't really sure what at this point, but they were something. Both had an impressive lack of normal everyday knowledge, at least when it came to the life people lived inside a kingdom.

They hadn't shared their story, but Flint already had a rough idea: Either they were from a frontier village or from a roaming tribe. Or a combination of both. One thing he was sure of: They were not from inside the walls of any of the four kingdoms.

Flint's eyes narrowed a little bit. The Branwen's carried themselves the same way seasoned hunters did: Always on the lookout, not dissimilar to a coil ready to spring into action at any moment's notice. They acted like someone who had experienced the Grimmlands firsthand.

Qrow at least managed to hide it behind his quite amusing or annoying mannerisms. Raven on the other hand: She didn't care and let anyone know that she was dangerous and not someone to be approached without caution. Something you did not do unless you were a total moron, of course.

"... and I soooo want to be friends with him and my teammates would be delighted to too I am sure but of course only if he wants to..."

One thing was for sure: Raven Branwen was probably one of the most dangerous in her generation. A fact which was only emphasized when her eyes met his and became slits. Did she notice him looking? Quite the instincts if you considered she sensed it with Taiyang trying to get her attention nonstop and Qrow playing a game on his scroll, quite loudly at that.

Flint had nothing but pity for Taiyang. He was like a lovesick little puppy. But sadly, the young blonde could just as well had tried to woo a brick wall. Scratch that, he would have found bigger success if he did. At least the brick wall did not shoot you down on your every try. But he had to give it to Taiyang: If anything, he was driven and didn't give up in the face of failure.

Then again, wooing someone whom you needed her brother as mediator to make any sense out of her was not one of the smartest things you could have done. You ran into the same problem you did as the team leader.

But now he better looked away before he had to defend himself from a pissed bird.

Where was he? Ah, yes: Communication.

Communicating was the key to success, in a team of hunters even more so. If you needed one to do so effectively with someone else, that was problematic. Not now, they were only in their second year, but later?

Yeah, that had to change. Fast.

He didn't want to see them fail in the crucial moment which would decide over life and death.

He was not sure who of the two had to change: Raven or Summer. Probably both since they had to work together for at least two more years and possibly even more afterwards.

And this is where he thought Kestrel could help. At least, he could help Summer. Since the boy was socially inept like Raven, but still not as unapproachable as the black haired girl he could really help out Summer to deal with this type of person.

At least, that was what Flint thought. He still hadn't grasped Kestrel's character that well to make a final judgment. The boy was flighty and contradicted himself on so many levels.

Oh, Flint was aware that the back-story Kestrel told him was not the entire story. Not a direct lie, no, but also not the whole truth. Telling half-truths, he was quite the clever kid. Flint also respected the kid's decision to not talk to a random stranger about himself.

He himself wouldn't have done it if he was in Kestrel's shoes. Flint only hoped that, in time, the boy would trust him enough to tell the whole, unabridged story. It would also give him a peace of mind, too. The fact that he couldn't place Kestrel's accent bugged Flint to no end.

But that was something for another time. He had a Rose to reassure.

Since the noise stopped Flint made a wild guess that Summer had run out of steam, so he focused at her again. The girl in question now just sat there, fiddling with her fingers, avoiding eye contact and all in all looking quite embarrassed. Once again, she thought of herself as less for being so talkative.

Well, time to play the adult's role.

"Summer, he doesn't hate you guys.", judging from the way she looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, Summer was listening to him. Good. "He may be terrified for life...", a flinch, "...and he may never be alone in the same room as Raven...", another flinch, "... but that doesn't mean he hates you."

Guilt washed over her face and inwardly it was Flint's turn to flinch. Too early for that, huh?

"It's a joke, a joke. Kestrel is made out of tougher stuff than that. Soon you all will laugh about it, you will see.", and he really hoped they would because if they didn't he would be a bad person for being the only one to laugh.

"Are you sure?", Summer looked directly at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes and oh mighty Oum if she was any cuter Summer would have to be classified as a WMD. Flint felt how his willpower crumbled faster than any enemy had managed to achieve. Hell, It felt like his aura was actually being drained.

What a terrifying girl. Was that her semblance?

Any musings were cut short as the door opened and stumbling in, looking like something heavy had rammed him was no other than the person they talked about. Speak of the Grimm and he shall appear.

Kestrel's nose was in an somewhat odd angle, obviously broken, and bleeding quite profoundly. The older blood had already dried and had formed trails down to his mouth and around it. A bruise surrounded it, quite the large on in fact. His breath came out of him in a wheeze and his knuckles were bloody. Too many punches with fists, huh?

What situation did he manage to get himself into this time?

The curiosity nearly killed Flint. He had to know. But before he could open his mouth and let out a witty remark out Summer had already closed the distance and pulled one of his arms over her shoulder and helped him to a chair.

A quiet thank you was mumbled and Kestrel motioned her to go. Summer had none of it and hovered near him, fussing over his wounds and trying her best to continue to help him. The boy on the other hand tried his best to emulate a sack of potatoes and hang in the chair like a man about to die.

The only two signs that he was alive were his eyes wide open and moving and his hands which were swatting away Summer's every time she tried to take a closer look at his wounds.

"Let me help you!"

"I can help myself, thank you very much."

The only response he got from Summer was a waggling finger and a disapproving look.

"You cannot, mister. NOW LET ME HELP YOU!", another brave attempt from Summer to get a hold of his head, only to be thwarted by Kestrel. Flint had no doubt in mind that Summer could have overpowered him with sheer strength alone, but she probably didn't want to make the bruises any worse than they were.

"Thank you.", Summer took a good long look into his eyes. "At least you only have a very mild concussion, at worst. You were lucky."

What a nice girl, couldn't hurt a fly if she tried.

Sadly the same didn't apply for Raven, and before Kestrel could blink she was behind him, holding his head still. Flint had to let out a low whistle. A rapidly executed move like that, and no damage whatsoever to the target? Impressive, even if the target was a civilian.

The moment Raven's hands touched his, Kestrel stopped any movement on his part. Giving a hesitant yet thankful nod towards the taller girl Summer slowly and ever so gently placed her hands on his cheeks to turn his head into a better position for her to look at. Kestrel couldn't help the wince when her hands made a little bit of contact with the bruised area.

"I'm sorry!", it didn't stop her from examining his broken nose, though. Kestrel, the smart boy he was, realized that resistance was futile and accepted his fate. Summer opened a pauch hanging on her belt and pulled out her first aid kit. Caught between her in front of him who had started to treat his wounds -against his protests, again- and Raven behind him, two beautiful girls, he should have counted himself lucky. Instead he acted as if they were the Grimm Reapers themselves.

What a brat.

"You're Kestrel Harvest, right? My name is Summer Rose. Nice to meet you!"

"Likewise."

Which brought Flint to the next curious thing: Why was Raven acting so nice?

"ARGH!", well, correcting someone's broken nose without warning or tenderness was a form of kindness, right?

But back to track. For everyone else, something like simply holding someone still for another to examine and to treat a wound was nothing big. But Raven? Who beat the same person she was holding to an inch of his life only two weeks prior? And who now helped him with his broken nose, too?

That was strange. Very strange so. Strange things deserved to be investigated.

"The person behind you is Raven. The two others are Qrow and Taiyang."

"Good to meet you!", Taiyang greeted him with an friendly smile while Qrow only let out a muffled 'Sup!', not really offering more. He was too engrossed in his game. Raven didn't say anything.

"... Nice to meet you.", he didn't sound like he had any particular interest in them at this point.

Flint mused that something must have happened to Raven or else she wouldn't do that. Talking about something happened, just now Summer had asked Kestrel the very same question: What happened? Well, time for him to pay attention or he missed the juicy details.

"...I ran into something unpleasant. Literally.", one of Flint's eyebrow went up. Really? He had to be cryptic? now? Thankfully, he didn't need to insert himself into the conversation to get answers as Raven applied a little bit of pressure with her hands. Literally.

Hmm? So she was interested, too? How curious.

"What something?", a little bit of sweat ran down Kestrel's face. Poor boy, she literally had him in her claws, defenseless.

"You remember the boy group who tried to get it on with you?", the reactions to the question where varied, to say the least. Raven nodded but didn't say anything, Summer blushed a little at his choice of words -really, how innocent could someone be?-, Qrow let out a wince of sympathy for the poor bastards and Tai... let us just say he wasn't really pleased with it.

"Can't believe I have to talk about them again... Well, I bumped into their top dog, he recognized me and got pretty angry. One thing led to another afterwards."

"Brawl?", Flint couldn't help himself but interject after all. This was just too good. The only answer he got was a nod. "Since you are here I take it that either he had really good bedside manners or you managed to best him. Which one is it, if I am allowed to ask?"

"The latter. Barely."

"Well, good job then, kid. Didn't know you had it in you, to be honest.", his words only made Kestrel... angry? Why? "I am impressed. Something you do not share, I take it?"

A baleful glare, followed by a tired sigh. It hit him more than I thought it did. Up to now a sheltered life from violence? That was strange. Even a life inside a kingdom's borders would desensitize someone to violence to the point where a beating wasn't such a big deal.

The only possible place for him to grow up in such a way was in one of the rich districts up in Atlas. But he didn't really lie when he told him he was from outside the kingdoms. His accent was also not atlesian, too.

A small grin played over Flint's mouth, barely the corners of his mouth pulled up. Kestrel really was such an interesting puzzle to solve.

"I don't see what you are so upset about.", all eyes immediately wandered towards the black haired girl. Kestrel was the exception, of course. His head was still clamped into position by the bird's claws.

"You fought, you won. The strong survives, the weak dies. That's all there is to it.", Summer looked at her teammate in horror, Taiyang with a certain weariness and Qrow let out a sigh once again. Strangely, Kestrel let out one too, in tandem with Qrow no less.

Since Summer was frozen in place by Raven's words Kestrel took it into his own hands. A light tap on one of Raven's hand made her lift them away, allowing Kestrel to finish Summer's handiwork. The silence continued, the only sound was the sound of bandage being rolled around parts of his body.

A quiet thank you in Summer's direction and he stood up. Without waiting for anyone to say something he walked towards the exit, no doubt wanting to get into his apartment as fast as possible.

At the doorframe he stopped.

"The natural order, huh? Why am I not surprised to hear you say that?", Kestrel's voices carried a certain tone of defeat Flint found hard to place. As if something inevitable had happened. "Please to try to understand that not anyone shares the sentiment. Or that anyone interprets it the same way you do."

And without saying another word Kestrel walked out.

... Such a drama queen.


	15. Chapter 15: A different Rose

A great thinker once coined the term ' _Zoon politikon'_ as a way to describe the human nature.

It meant that a human was a socially and politically oriented being. There were two mainstream interpretations experts held: One, it meant that a human was generally focused on the forming societies and making and upholding interpersonal relationships. Two, it was solely meant in the context of the human living in a polity.

No matter which one you believed to be the one true way to look at it, it didn't change that a human was someone living together with others, no matter which forms it took. Friends, family. In some cases even a nation; A person would do anything to keep them, to help them, to spent time with them. Under normal circumstances, anyway.

Many different theories have been built upon this, to explain how and why we formed societies. It wasn't just a theory, something you could falsify and simply throw away for another. It had become a believe, a concept people didn't want to let go. Probably because without it we would be nothing more than intelligent savages.

If you asked for my opinion, that was completely and utterly false. Even if we weren't like that, we would be more than smarter animals.

I should now, for I wasn't a Zoon politikon.

Something I was once again reminded while I was on a run through Vale.

But let me back up a bit for you. With things calming down somewhat I finally could go back to my usual routines. One of them was a two miles long morning run every two days. This one's purpose was mainly to make myself feel better, like I at least have done something. That and the training I did later on the same days.

I would have felt guilty for eating so many cookies and pastries, otherwise.

You probably wondered what that had to do with me not being a social person. See, under normal circumstances, it really didn't. Yes, you had a point there. There was just one tiny problem, a speck of information which wasn't known by you. Not yet.

Remember how Summer said she wanted to be friends with me? That is the part which was problematic. You see, when they spoke about being friends with someone any normal person meant doing generic stuff like hanging out together, exchanging scroll addresses and sometimes going out for a drink, be it alcoholic beverages or smoothies or anything else you could safely drink.

Repeating it multiple times, you grew closer if the chemistry was right and over time you would become friends.

I hoped that was all which would happen. I thought that we would meet or talk or whatever a couple of times, realize the chemistry was not good and then move on without any hitches. I was naive. Summer was not, under any definition of the word, normal.

How, you asked?

Summer Rose, aspiring huntress and leader of the to be famous team STRQ, slayer of Grimm and defender of the innocent, turned out to be a stalker.

I kid you not. Somehow she had gotten hold of the information that I went for a run every morning every two days -I highly suspected Flint- and decided to make it a group activity. So, every time I went out for a run there was Summer waiting on the next corner in sportswear and ready to join. Wasn't that fun?

If you couldn't have guessed: The answer was _NO_!

Summer was the complete opposite of her future daughter. She was too open, too social. She gave the expression 'chatterbox' a completely new meaning! She did not stop talking! No matter how many times I gave her subtle signs that I had no interest in any form of communication so early in the morning, they simply went over her head and she talked and talked and talked.

At first, it didn't get on my nerves as much as it should have: Summer told me about Beacon, her team, the classes, a mission or two; The topics were, I hated to admit, rather interesting. So I didn't mind it the first two running sessions.

But after the third it started to get on my nerves. Now, if you assumed it ended there than you were sorely mistaken. Not only my did she pester during running sessions, Summer also started to visit me during work, ordered something just to get me close to her and started chatting happily. Surrounded by other customers I couldn't tell her upfront to shove it where the sun doesn't shine or even excuse myself.

We at _Bean Here_ had an image to uphold, after all.

The other customers didn't help. They found it cute and endearing instead of annoying and time consuming and even encouraged it. Traitors, the whole lot of them. At least she hadn't dragged the others on her becoming-friends-crusade or I would have lost it. One was already enough to deal with.

But even with my saint like amount of patience I had finally enough the very evening someone rang the bell at the door of my apartment.

Interrupting me right in the middle of searching for good history books with my new scroll my mood was, understandably, _slightly_ damped. Why I didn't just read it up online? I have done that, too, but I liked the feeling of actual paper between my fingertips. Call me old school but it gave the whole reading experience more substance for a lack of a better word.

At first, I tried my best to ignore it. But the bell was rang again. And again. After the fifth time the ringing was more akin to a storm and- did the person on the other side try to play a melody with my doorbell? With furious steps and mind I made my way towards the door. I swore, if the person on the other side had no good reason for interrupting me heads were going to roll.

With more than necessary force I slammed open the door and there on my doormat stood... Summer Rose. Because of course she would follow me to my home. She greeted me with a cheerful but sheepish grin and were that two smoothies in her hands?

"Hello again!"

"... Summer.", I greeted her with as much enthusiasm as humanly possible. Not. "Why are you here?"

"I brought a gift?", the smoothies were raised. the silence that followed was almost palpable. "Can I come in? Little cold out here."

Summer put me in quite the predicament here. On one hand, I really didn't want to deal with her. On the other hand, she bought smoothies and not drinking them would be a real waste. Oh, the choices, the choices.

In the end, the Smoothies came out victorious.

Beckoning here in and closing the door behind her sealed my fate. Summer, of course being in my apartment for the first time, wasted no time and looked around with innocent curiosity as she made her way to my couch. I simply trailed behind her ,gathering my thoughts and doing my best to scrap up the rest of my tolerance for social interactions. I hoped it was still enough or Summer would most likely leave with tears in her eyes.

Before you asked; Yes, I did care. Just because I was not interested in dealing with humans at this hour did not mean I wanted to make those that tried end up crying. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that the person trying was Summer. Nope. Nothing at all. I was not in denial.

 **DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!**

Ahem, let's ignore that and focus back on the unfolding event, shall we?

Summer offered me one of the cold beverages which I gladly took. Since she took the left side of the coach I went on to take the right side for myself. I looked at Summer, she looked at me and once again, silence. An awkward one.

Wishing to break it as fast as possible I took a sip from my smoothie. Which threw up another question: It was a banana cherry smoothie. How did she now my favorite?! How long had she been watching me for finding that one out?!

"So...", I was the first one to speak, mainly to district myself from the very dangerous line of thought I started to go down. "I take it you had some reason for visiting me at this hour?".

"Do you need a reason to visit a friend? HAHAHAHA", the laughter was actually pronounced. Like, with words. And the sheepishness and the blush on her face not to mention she avoided to look at me? They did not help. They only raised my suspicions and annoyance.

I had to end it. It couldn't go on like this. There were many things experience told me, and one of them was that this whole becoming-friends-and-living-happily-ever-after-thing would crash and burn and take all of us with it.

"Summer, please, just stop."

My words had barely left my mouth when her eyes were already on me. They must have really shocked her to cause that reaction. The expression on her face... as if my words somehow had beckoned in the apocalypse.

"I know what you are trying to do. It won't end the way you want it to. So please, just stop. Before there is any damage.", there came no word out of her. Summer simply sat there, looking at me with mouth and eyes agape. I took pause as a chance to take another sip. The movement was apparently the wakeup call for her.

"What are you talking about? Everybody needs friends!", a shaking finger was raised and pointed directly at my face. "You are friends with Flint! So why can't we be friends, too?!"

"Flint and I are not friends. He is my employer, I am his employee. Yes, sometimes we drink one together. But that still doesn't' make us friends. Flint and I are acquaintances. Fleeting ones, at that."

"Drinking together sounds like something friends do."

"It's not. It's called a drinking buddy. Totally different."

"A buddy is a friend!"

"There is a difference between buddy and drinking buddy."

"Really? And how are they different, mister?!"

"The former you invite to your home and introduce to your family, the latter you only spend your time with in relative silence and without anyone knowing!"

"That's stupid!"

"Is it though?"

"IT IS! And how can I make it up to you otherwise?!"

... Why? Why did she need to sound like one of those cliché TV characters? Why was she so invested in this? And why was she so emotional over this? I really, _really_ did not understand.

"You simply say 'I am sorry' and then you move on. Besides, the only person who needs to 'make it up' to me is Raven, not you.", Summer wanted to say something, most likely something to show her protest. I wanted none of that. "And if she doesn't feel like doing it, then it's better if Raven doesn't do it from the start. Apologies you do not mean are worse than not apologizing in the first place."

"Then tell me!", Summer closed the distance, grabbed me by my shirt and screamed into my face, leaving her smoothie to fall to the floor. "What am I supposed to do?!"

I had no immediate answer.


	16. Chapter 16: Crutch for the Stem

People were the most difficult things in existence to grasp.

That was a fact. Even if we managed to acquire everything there was to know about the universe, people wouldn't be something we could understand in their entirety. For that, we were to complex. To many levels, to many facets.

The biggest deciding factors were the emotions everyone of us felt. There might have been people with bizarre minds and, following that, bizarre forms of emotions, but it didn't change the fact that they had them.

Because of this, because of the inability to understand others in their entirety, the greatest mystery we would ever face were those around us.

So, after Summer's outburst which had come out of nowhere as far as I was concerned, It was my turn to sit there shell-shocked. The situation escalated too quickly. Why was she so invested in this? Why was it so important to her?

"Flint told me. You barely do anything with others. The only person who has regular contact with you is Flint. So I thought... I thought that becoming someone for you to talk to was the best I could do.", Summer's hands let go of my shirt and she fell backwards, resting her neck on the coach's armrest. "But, of course, I was wrong."

You didn't need to hear the 'like always'. It was pretty apparent. I wondered if Summer really was that insecure. Scratch that, the picture in front of me was enough of an answer.

"I can't get Raven to apologize. I tried talking with her for the entirety of the two weeks after she knocked you out. The only answers she gave me were glares.", she covered her eyes with her arm. "As if she was looking at something particularly distasteful."

What could you even say in this situation? 'I am sorry.'? 'It's not that bad.'? 'Look on the bright side.'? Was there even a bright side? I had no idea. There was only one thing I was sure of: Something was definitely wrong with Summer's self-esteem.

"Let me ask you a question.", I knew I could only be described as mediocre when it came to having empathy with others, or even understanding them on an emotional level. So I had to go down the logic based route: Finding out the reason, drawing the conclusion and maybe, if needed, acting on it. "Why do you care so much? I doubt it has to do with me. At least, not only me."

"I do want help you!", Summer shot up from her laying position faster than I could blink. "Also, as team leader it is my responsibility!"

Ah, and there was the crux of the matter. Summer Rose suffered from the same thing her daughter would suffer later: Doubts in her own ability and desperation to prove herself to others. The difference: With Ruby, most of it was solved the very first week in Beacon. For Summer, the doubting had been going on for more than a year now. And for me, it made this personal.

"Let me be frank with you:", I leaned slightly towards her, prompting Summer to do the same. "No, it is not."

"Heh?"

"It is not the team leader's responsibility to clean up every mess those on their team makes."

"But Ozpin said-"

"Forget him and what he thinks!", the sudden outburst made Summer recoil but I could not help it. I really got angry hearing a sentence start like this. "He is not the authority when it comes to anything regarding you. You don't have to adhere his every word."

"B-But he said-"

"Do you even listen in yourself? 'B-But he said that a team leader has to perform at their absolute best and wear the heavy badge of responsibility.'? Was what you were going to tell me something like that?"

A shy nod was all she could do.

"And what does it mean? That you have to be exceptional at anything? That you carry the sole responsibility, that it is your, the leader's duty to give others a reason for them to follow you?"

I received another nod.

"That's bullshit.", I took a sip from my smoothie. "Don't get me wrong. It is good advice to start from. But it is not, and I repeat, it is not the guideline throughout the entirety of you acting as the team leader. Leading by example can only carry you so far."

"Then what would you do?"

"What I would do now if I had been pushed into the position of team leader? Doing what I thought would be for the best and go with it."

"That's what I did!"

"We both now that is not true. You doubted most decisions you made along the way or you wouldn't be in the situation you are in right now and you wouldn't be so desperate for a win either.", my words crumbled her into a heap on my coach. I had to suppress the wince. I really needed to chose my words more carefully. Summer looked like she was about to burst into tears.

Not good. Not good at all. The last thing I wanted to have a person crying their brains out in my apartment. I wouldn't know what to do in that situation. I eyed the defeated form of the girl in front of me with a somewhat critical eye to figure out how I could stop the incoming waterfalls.

"How old are you?", my question got at least some reaction out of her, judging from the lone teary eye looking at me past her bangs.

"I am 17 years old."

"So you got in a year early. See, a win right there.", and it was impressive, though Ruby would manage it even earlier.

"Raven could have gotten in at 14.", of course she had to rain on my parade. And didn't she overestimate Raven a little bit? "Not really a win."

"The missions you told me about? Their success? The happy people you left behind, save and sound?"

"I already told you: Raven was the reason why we completed the missions."

"Seriously, stop comparing yourself with Raven.", my words were the tipping point. In a sudden display of power Summer stood up and a look in her face was all it took to see the oncoming outbreak of a year's worth of pent-up emotions. Which was good. It was long overdue.

"Raven only follows those who are stronger than her! I can only become her team leader if I surpass her!", and weren't her words just filled with sunshine and not compulsively obsessive at all ? I took it back. She didn't just have doubts in her own prowess as leader, Summer Rose felt completely and utterly mediocre with Raven standing right next to her.

It also didn't escape me that this wasn't about the apology anymore. It was about something much, much more personal.

"And you think someone who is plagued with doubts and not willing to make her own judgments shows strength? Give me a break.", I stood up, too, which lead to me towering over her. Because let's face it, Summer wasn't tall. She was rather short, maybe 5'3? 5'4?

"You wanted to know what I truly think, didn't you? I think that you should stop caring what others think about you and your decisions. I think you should not make a decision which solely follows someone else's advice. I think your decisions are not there just to make someone else happy. If someone is not willing to accept your decision, then so be it. Screw them."

"So I should just ignore Raven?!"

"In a manner of speaking, Yes!"

"And how exactly is that supposed to help?"

"Sometimes, not doing anything requires more strength than doing something. And going forward at your own pace, staying with what you decided and not getting influenced by others shows more strength than you think it does."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Really? Who is it again having problems with an unruly teammate? You know, one who 'only follows someone strong'?", for that I got an evil eye. "Correct. It is you. Someone so insecure, so undecided on anything and so focused on what others think of her that she lost sight of herself!", I stepped right up to her. And only now I fully realized the difference in height: She only got to my chest and I had to look down at quite the steep angle to even look her in the eyes. Eyes which burnt with anger and desperation and pain.

"What you do right now, this whole helping-me-thing and becoming friends? It is not about me. It never has been. It is you trying to somehow prove that you can carry the responsibility, that you can be the leader you believe they want you to be. You want to be accepted as that and nothing else. But you don't have to prove anything to anyone! Not to _Ozpin_ , not to _me_ , and certainly not to _Raven_!"

And finally my words had pushed her over the edge.

Summer looked at me wide-eyed and started to tremble.

One of my hands found her shoulder in silent support.

The small form of Summer Rose crashed into me and us onto the coach, her face buried into my chest.

At first, only a few sobs came out. Then, the crying started.

You most likely wanted to know why. Why I did that, why I pushed her over the edge like that and why Summer even acted in the way she did.

The answer was simple: These thoughts of hers, the emotional distress which had later turned into obsession; I suspected they all had built up over an entire year and more without any release, without Summer even uttering a single word because she wanted to be the strong leader who didn't need help.

Even if he had noticed, Taiyang had most likely been too nice to do anything meaningful, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Raven, not doing anything was already a given. Ozpin or the other teachers; Summer didn't want them to know because teachers and even if they did, she wouldn't have allowed them to do anything meaningful because, again, teachers.

Whose lack of action wondered me the most was Qrow's. Why had Qrow allowed this? Maybe he was nicer than I initially thought. Too nice, in fact, like Taiyang.

Since the needed support from her team or anyone else hadn't been there, it ended up eating away at Summer. Someone had to act like an asshole and push her, pry the figurative bottle holding her emotions open, even if that was painful for her at first. Staying in such a state or even sinking deeper into It wasn't healthy and way worse than the initial sting the release would cause.

Why I did all of that? Personal interest.

Now, after the deed was done, the only thing I could do was to lay one hand on her back and hold my smoothie in the other, occasionally taking a sip. I didn't know how long we stayed in that position. The only indicator was the smoothie, which was at one point empty and the cup discarded on the table.

"Sorry about that.", her muffled voice reached my ears after she finally had calmed down to the point where the only thing left was a light hiccup. The only answer I gave her was a hum. "Didn't mean to make your shirt wet."

"Don't worry about it. I understand."

"You do?", she lifted her head up and locked at me with red and puffy eyes.

"Let's call it personal experience and leave it at that.", I didn't want to elaborate, a decision she accepted without a word and pushed herself off me.

"Can you not tell anyone else about this? Please?"

"Telling someone something implies talking with them. So I don't think you have to fear that happening at any point in the future.", I tried smiling, but it came out as a grimace. Too many emotions in a time window too small for me to handle. " And I would like for you to do the same; This was a one-time-thing, I will not be all cozy and cuddly again so don't even dream about telling others they can come to me with their problems."

Seeing her nod and the light smile signaled me that the message was received. I decided to say my last piece and be done with it.

"Summer, don't be the leader someone else wants you to be. Don't be the leader someone advised you to be. Be the leader you want to be for them. Everything else comes afterwards. Otherwise, you will break. Hard."

For most others, this would have been bad advice. But Summer was too altruistic, didn't think enough about her own wellbeing. Injecting a little bit of egoism was the right thing to do. Something I didn't regret doing.

"Thank you.", Summer used her sleeve to wipe her face. "I owe you."

"And you can start repaying me by cleaning this up.", I moved my finger to point at the long forgotten smoothie Summer had let go and which had, by now, completely leaked onto my floor.

"OH MY GOSH I AM SO SORRY!"


	17. Chapter 17: Salvation of mine

If there was one thing which made humankind special, the most unique trait we had and shared, it would be the ability to innovate.

Whenever we hit a roadblock, be it the sea, sky or even space, we always reacted the same way and started thinking up and creating objects and techniques to overcome the obstacle. It was one of the few admirable traits we had, and the of the few reasons why we were still around now.

If we had a hard time transporting resources from point A to point B we constructed vehicles.

If we had to cross a river we built a bridge.

If we needed to travel over large distances we invented the airplane.

If we needed relief we made pornographic material.

... I admit the last one wasn't that impressive.

Innovation was what propelled us forward, which enabled us to pierce new heights. It shouldn't have surprised anyone that, once the time for me had come, I would start to work on my own innovation. An innovation born out of desperation, a need for something I craved for in my life, something ensuring my very survival.

And because of that I currently sat at my table in my apartment, completely concentrated on the work at hand. My work, this child of mine, was destined to become something glorious.

"You still haven't told me what you are building.", sadly, there was also this annoyance called Flint I had to deal with. Something I had to bear since the tools I used to built it were borrowed from him. His condition was to let him watch. Damn him and his curiosity.

"And I told you a hundred times already, I will tell you when I am done.", I said without looking up at him, too occupied with drilling a hole into a lid. It was made out of a not so thick plastic, which meant I had to be careful or else it would be destroyed. That would be a setback I could not rectify without more money. Something I did not have at the time.

If you wondered what I was building; let's just say it involved a cylindrical water boiler, a metal rod, a pommel, two rubber rings of different diameters and a round sieve. No, they were not the type of rubber rings you were thinking about right now so you could stop right there.

"Stop annoying me.", I let out an angry huff. I also could not help the sour expression. At least he stopped talking for a time after that, leaving me to my task at hand. My thoughts could not help but wander towards the last conversation I had with Summer. In the moment I had not really thought about it, but what I did was basically interfering with the way things had been intended to be, was it not?

That was bad. Really bad. It meant a lot of things I was not particularly pleased with. The biggest of them all: The butterfly effect. The snowball of doom. The pebble down a Cliffside. There were many analogies for this phenomenon, but all of them could be broken down to one thing:

One small change could evolve into a gigantic difference.

It was something I didn't want at the time. When I thought about it, I hated the idea to lose the predictability of the future I had the wish to survive long enough to die of old age. Something was became more and more unlikely with every step away from the original timeline. The other something else I had already mentioned: I was a control freak.

Ok, pressing the smaller rubber ring in the opening until it was in place and perfect, that part was finished. Onto the next.

Anyway, I was a control freak. Changing a outcome which we would arrive at with a near hundred percent probability for a future I couldn't pinpoint: This didn't sit well with me at all. And at this point I couldn't guess how much and even if there would be any change in Summer's behavior, or what it could cause. It just did not sit right with me and yes, I knew how messed up that sounded in the context.

Fixing the sieve to one end of the metal rod proved more of a challenge. I actually had to fiddle with it for a good ten minutes before I managed to attach one to the other with some leftover wire.

"... let me run something by you and you can tell me what you think."

The only response I managed was an inquiring hum. I was too deep into my work and my thoughts for anything else.

"What do you think about learning how to fight? Only for self defense, of course."

I couldn't help the big, resounding 'NO' which escaped my lips.

"Why not?"

"Two reasons: I don't need it in the future and every time you suggest something it is at my expense.", there were also others which I refused to divulge in for they only led down a dark path, ending in a mental breakdown and possible need for therapy.

"Preposterous!", he exclaimed. I wasn't completely sure if he was actually agitated or if all of it was an act. Probably the latter. " I would never! When did I ever do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe the one time where you told me the mixer was old and lost much of its power? I still haven't been able to get all the spots out of my shirt."

"It was really powerful before."

"Or when you tried to convince me that kissing someone's hand and cheeks was the way you greet people from Atlas?"

"To be fair, that was a legit form of greeting."

"A hundred years ago."

"Doesn't make it any less legit."

"There was also the one time where you tried to persuade me to let the old ladies at table six touch my buttocks for some extra tips."

"... It could have worked.", he didn't even look apologetic, that asshole.

"It's sexual harassment!", I was done with the conversation. Anymore and I would probably lose my sanity. Gliding the rod through the hole in the lid and screwing the pommel onto the end pointing out of the lid, the first creation I constructed in Remnant was finished.

"Wellll, it's all in the past now. More importantly, will you finally tell me what that thing is?"

The time has come. After so long I finally could lean back and relax for real. The most important thing in my life has arrived once again, this time forged by my own two hands. It was a device of untold ability, a device which could pacify the greatest of conflicts and turn the biggest of villains.

It was the holy sword Excalibur born again. It was the holy grail, the Lance of Longinus, the wellspring of ambrosia and so much more.

"It's a coffee cooker."

Judging by the disbelieving and frankly underwhelmed expression on the older man's face, he did not share my view. Or even my enthusiasm, for that matter.

"Couldn't you just have bought one? No need for all the effort."

"You know just as well as I that money is something I do not have. A good coffee machine costs quite a sum of money. This is a lot cheaper.", I picked up my work and held it towards him for inspection. He didn't take it and continued to give it an look that screamed the question 'Good machine?!'. I refused to acknowledge it. The machine was good. It was built by me, after all. He would see the light in due time.

"We have a good machine in the coffee shop. It's literally downstairs."

"I do not trust myself to walk down a staircase before my first cup of morning coffee."

"How did you manage so far?", it was a genuine question. A question I deflected as quickly as someone who had cheated and whose partner was onto them. Because frankly, the truth was not something to be proud of. To be Disgusted by it -yes, 'Disgusted' with a capital D- was so much more apt.

I didn't even want to think about it. Because once knowledge was known, it could not be un-known. You did not need to know; Knowing would only mentally scar you for life. I would use all the resources at my disposal to prevent that.

You could thank me later.

"Okay, OKAY, I get. you don't want to talk about it.", Flint raised his hands in surrender. good. " But before you go ahead and throw me out like you always do, would you at least extend the courtesy and offer me a drink? Something made with your new machine, if possible?"

"No."

Hell would freeze over before I shared my coffee machine's virginity with someone else, let alone allowing them to take it. The first cups filled with the godly beverage would be mine and mine alone. My iron will didn't waver in my decision even when he walked out, dejectedly hanging down his shoulders and all in all looking like a kicked puppy. A sad, kicked, coffee-deprived little puppy. I did not know such a look existed.

I felt a sliver of guilt.


	18. Chapter 18: A Glimpse of Change

One of the most important bonds in our life were those we shared with family.

But what was family? Did you consider family to only include those who had the same blood pumping through their veins? Or friends who had been with you for a long period of time? People who went with you through the tough parts of life? Maybe all of that?

There was no simple answer. Hell, it was a question with multiple answers. Everyone tumbled through life in search of it, for their own personal answer, with no guarantee to find it before they departed from this world again.

But once we have found our family, we would do anything to protect it from anything we perceived as a threat to them.

It shouldn't have surprised me that two days after the episode with Summer, once again my bell was rang. Having already resigned myself to my fate I slowly walked up to the door with a long sigh and opened the door. What did Summer want from me now?

Nothing, apparently, since the one standing there in front of me and giving me a smirk comparable to a hungry shark's was not nice little Summer. Oh no, that would have only been annoying in comparison.

"Hello, pal!", leaning against my doorframe was no other than Qrow fuckin' Branwen who greeted me with a somewhat angry look on him. "Fancy a chat?"

Fuck. my. Life.

"No, not really. I am kinda busy in the mome-"

"Thank you!", he cut me off abruptly and walked past, slamming his shoulder into mine. Painfully. Very. Painfully.

I could already tell. This was not going to be fun.

And what was it with people coming to my apartment nowadays, anyway? was that to be the theme from this point on? Because I did not like it. They were not supposed to come to my apartment. No one was supposed to. It was my apartment. My safe haven . My Garden Eden.

"If you are here to receive some form of help with some run-of-the-mill problem, I swear, I will call law enforcement.", I would have threatened him with some punishment involving violence, but really, who believed for even a second I had any chance of enacting it upon him?

"AS IF!", yep, he definitely sounded angry, alright. "Now listen here. You will tell me what you did right now."

The next couple of seconds I stood there, trying to find the meaning in his words. Qrow stood just a meter in front of me, arms crossed and looked like he was ready for murder. Then it hit me. "Did something happen to Summer?"

"You know full well! She has been acting strange ever since she last visited you. So. What. Did. You. Do?"

My mind would have immediately wandered to the worries I had in regards of making an impact. But the person in front of me took a little too much of my attention for that. He was scary, though nothing compared to his sister. Maybe a five out of Raven?

"The only thing I spoke to her about was a way to get the one thing she lacked. If she follows through with it or not, that's her decision."

"And what was that, mister know-it-all?!"

"Emotional strength."

"... come again?", What, he didn't even know? That was strange. He would not have come here if he was not the caring type. Normally, he should have noticed during the year they had spent their time as a team.

I wondered, did that mean that Summer had such a good poker face or that Qrow was even more socially inept than I was? Or did something hinder him from seeing Summer's situation? Some sort of Bias, perhaps?

"You didn't know?", the question was past my lips before I could stop it. Wrong thing to say. Back to the angry Qrow. "Summer has quite the problem with her confidence. A lack thereof, to be precise."

"And how does her ignoring us achieves getting it?!"

"She did what?", It was my turn to stand there in wonder, my mouth slightly opened. Let's be real here, not caring as much about what others think ofyou did not go hand in hand with ignoring others. I never intended for Summer to interpret my words that way.

"Summer ignored us these past two days, jackass!"

"Uhm... care to elaborate?"

And so he did. He told me every little change in her behavior. With a sense of detail I found to be disturbing after it had continued on for 5 minutes and did not seem to stop anytime soon. That was also around the same time I had to do my best to hold back the laughter.

Why? Because it was laughable. Summer not wasting her time waking up Qrow and Taiyang so that they wouldn't come too late to class, only to come too late to it herself. Summer not shifting her attention from the lessons in favor of looking at a funny sketch Qrow had drawn. Summer sassily talking back. All of the things were pretty much so small and insignificant I could not help the urge to laugh.

He was worried about something like that? I admitted that when compared to Summer before, this one might even be called cold or callous. Well, at least for the first two. But you could tell from his tales that Summer was experimenting. I had no doubt in my mind that she would become more open again, more forthcoming. Summer only had to find the right amount of -let's call it disregard- she was the most comfortable with.

After Qrow's visit, I would realize just what that change in behavior really meant.

Anyway, I told him all that mentioned above -minus the laughable part- and answered most questions he had, although I refused to answer any regarding my reasons for doing what I did. He wasn't even an acquaintance of mine. Who answered personal questions coming from a stranger?

There was also one thing I had noticed. The way Qrow talked about things regarding the supposed relationship Summer and I supposedly had, he almost sounded bitter when doing so. Or maybe jealous? It was hard to tell but also quite curious.

On one hand, I wanted to know the reason for it. On the other, I didn't want him to ask personal questions, it was only fair for me to do the same. So I just reassured him that Summer would be fine in a month or two. I didn't add the 'probably' to that sentence to avoid another violent reaction.

All was said and done at this point, so we just stood there. Qrow finally had run out of steam and was not really about to say anything. There were no words coming out of my mouth, too. We just stood there, in front of each other, face to face, both having no idea what either of us should do next.

"Well,", I decided to break the ice since I was still, technically, the host. Even though I wasn't the one who had invited Qrow in, I believed that I was obliged to say something. "Do you play scroll games?"

And thus, a special bond was formed, a bond which could only exist between two gamers. The next hours were spent playing all kinds of different scroll games. Each time we competed for one round before moving on to the next game for we had to see which one of us was the other's better overall. Only sticking with one game was ludicrous in a competitive context.

Qrow was good. It was the first thing I noticed after we had finished the fourth beat'em up game and he beat me three out of the four times. He was truly a worthy foe, but when we started to play RTS games the tide shifted in my favor. I took the lead the same way I gave him the runaround ingame. Winning all four rounds we played, it was pretty clear who had the better understanding of strategy. It took me maybe ten to fifteen minutes in each round to grind his army into dust.

The RTS games were structured the same way Total War's multiplayer was designed. Apparently, there were not many games on the market which focused more on the base building aspect.

When we were stuck competing in a fairly heated round of some FPS game something which concerned me happened. You see, I had left the glass door to my balcony open to ensure a stable supply of oxygen. We both had to be at the top of our game, after all.

What I did not expect was for Summer to use this very door to enter, pardon me, sprint into my apartment.

"Kestrel! I've heard Qrow is on his way here and angry. Are you alright?!", she shouted before realizing that Qrow and I simply sat on my couch, game paused and staring at each other with confusion. Well, Qrow and Summer were staring in confusion. I was more annoyed than confused.

Why, you asked? The knowledge that Summer managed to walk into my home from the balcony was very unpleasant. It was on the roof! Normally, humans could not enter from there. Summer has proven that there was no problem for every hunter who roamed Remnant to come into my apartment Assassin's Creed style.

I had miscalculated.

"What are you guys doing?"

That was the same question I wanted to ask you! Also, why did you not knock like a normal person? How was I supposed to understand this? Did it mean that you would always use my balcony to get access to my apartment? Was it the normal way for hunters to enter a home?

It could not be. Even Qrow, who looked positively ready for murder when I opened the door had still the decency to knock. We had doors for a reason.

You have to respect the door, woman!

"We had a little chat, nothing more. You could even say we are becoming friends.", thankfully Qrow smoothed over the silence while I was still holding a tirade inside my mind. Though I had the presence of mind to say something along the lines of 'Not friends'.

"Thank the gods.", Summer slumped a little in relief and only then I noticed her ragged breath and the light film of sweat on her forehead. She must have ran from Beacon all the way to my apartment, knowing her. That was insane. Impressive, but insane.

"Well, I would not want to disturb you guys.", what did this meaningful look she gave us mean?! "I still have homework to do so, see you tomorrow Kestrel!"

And then, just as suddenly as she appeared Summer turned towards the door and walked ever so calmly towards it. With a calm which belied the fact that she did just run through half of Vale like a maniac the white hooded girl opened the door.

"Didn't I tell you to stop with the whole friends-thing?", I would be damned if I did not get the last word in. Or my point across. It still stood!

"Didn't you also tell me to not listen to the advice of others as much and do what I thought best?", one last little oh so smug grin and Summer she was out of the door. Which left me and Qrow standing in my apartment like idiots.

"Did... Did she just use my own words against me?", I felt Qrow's hand finding my shoulder and patting it slowly.

"Trust me pal, I know how you feel."


	19. Chapter 19: An Annoyance was born

When it came to fiction, there were two rules which reigned supreme above all others. Those two were of special importance when it came to creating animation films and the way their story itself was actually written.

Rule 1: Friendship is magic.

Rule 2: The Power of Love is above all others and can solve any problem there is.

Now, these two rules had crystallized over the course of hundreds of series and movies. Both had multiple followings of their own. Be it those who only jokingly talked about the two rules, those who seriously considered them and those who actually believed that they applied to reality as it were.

The last following made me question how some people could think that humanity was currently at its peak. Then again, there were also people who still believe that the earth was flat, 9/11 was an inside job and Hitler is actually alive today hiding on the celestial body circling around the earth together with his trusted Moon Nazis.

Believing in Love and Friendship as all-around problem solvers was not that bad, considering. It was more like believing in the tooth fairy. Something born out of naivety rather than moronic brains whose neuron counters were somewhere in the single digits and who really needed the aluminum hats to avoid damaging the few they had remaining.

I would not have ever spent an smidgen of my time even trying to find out if the rules could be applied in a real life situation. In my humble opinion, it would be a gigantic waste of time. Time I could have used more productively. Reading some books, for example. Sadly, there was someone else who thought it was an exercise which was worth the try.

"So, who wants to start?", Summer was sitting at the sidelines and spoke in a nervous tone. I would have loved to give her the evil eye for that on the spot, but those two orbs of mine were preoccupied. By what, you asked?

Let me set the scene for you.

I was sitting on a chair in the middle of my apartment. Yes, I knew that part was getting old real quick, but it was not my fault! Summer simply walked in and out as she pleased! I could not stop her! She simply disregarded me telling her to stop that behavior!

I had created a monster.

Anyway, I was sitting on a chair and in front of me, also sitting on a chair and turned towards me was Raven. To our left was Summer, also on a chair, because of course she had to try the quarrel mediator approach usually reserved for small children in kindergarten or elementary school.

We had been like that for twenty minutes, just sitting there in silence.

The girl in front of me glowered with red eyes, narrowed to slits. Her stare would not have just made milk sour but turned it into a super acid. And probably set the glass the milk had been poured in on fire, whilst she was at it. That was a truly impressive evil eye. The most impressive I had ever seen.

It was the reason I could not leave her out of my sight for even a single moment, or so I thought. Looking away would be a clear sign of weakness, the last thing you wanted to show someone like Raven.

"Come on, guys.", no, Summer, even if you let out a whine like that, I would not say a thing. I refused to play along any further than that. It was bad enough that I agreed to sit down together. And I still was not completely sure how that happened; One moment I was vehemently saying no and cooking coffee and the next I was sitting here. It felt like a bad dream, to be honest. A little hope that it was still remained, though this hope was fading away quickly.

"Seriously, start talking.", no reason to get pushy. It would not change a thing. A sentiment Raven shared with me if the further narrowing of her eyes was anything to go by. By now they were nothing more than needle thin slits. On anyone else's face it would have looked funny.

"What's there to talk about?", I asked Summer without moving my eyes from the predator in the room. "She does not want to talk about it and I don't want to talk about it, either."

"I don't know. Talk about something else. Acquaint yourself. Maybe become friends. You might be surprised how easy it can be.", the tone of her voice was too eager to be genuine. So Summer herself realized that it was an endeavor destined to crash and burn and die in a horrible way.

What happened next could only be described as magical. A once in a lifetime moment. Something which could never be perfectly replicated ever again. Both Raven and I turned towards Summer at the same time. If there was a category in the Olympics for synchronized evil eyes, we would have won gold four times over.

It had an immediate effect. The focus of our combined might began to show signs of crumbling on the spot. But she stubbornly refused to give in, still. Instead, Summer returned our stares with eyes filled with iron will and determination.

"And while we are at it, why don't we hold hands and go for a walk, a skip in our every step?"

"What? No, that is way too far-", Summer stuttered out in shock but was interrupted by Raven joining in.

"Or we could go to an amusement park and enjoy the rides together.", The girl in front of me said something I would have never expected from her. I was surprised that this side of Raven even existed. Not that I complained at the moment.

"Maybe share ice cream together."

"Saunter through a field of flowers towards an golden orange sunset.", she also had the poker face for it. Truly, she was great when it came to making fun of someone. Or make them feel stupid. Or demeaning them.

Or anything mean, really.

"Stop! Stop, you two! I was wrong. I was wrong! So please don't team up against me!", Summer jumped up and made an impressive impression of a bird trying to take off. What was perhaps even more impressive was Summer managing to detect the sarcasm.

And before you said anything about it like it was the most obvious sarcasm ever; You were not the one to experience the unique case of Summer Rose for more than multiple days. "What's up with you two?! You guys have way too much chemistry."

Not really. Raven still hated my guts and I had not forgiven her for whatever happened on the day I met the girl. Both of us simply wanted to continue on with our days like normal, preferably not seeing each other.

So we had formed a shaky and temporary unspoken alliance against the greater threat to our interests. It would have served no one to insult or harm the other, since it would have served no purpose.

"So, we got our point across?", I asked Summer, but the only thing I got was silence and an defiant stare. Gods be damned, I did this for your own good. "Have we?"

"... Yes.", why was there a pause? And why did I not believe her when she said it? How did I already know that Summer thought something along the lines of "I'll show you all. Just you wait. I'll show you all." ?

Just when I was about to force her into compliance with a perfect and very convincing speech which would have shoved her off my back forever my coffee called for me. Well, it was more the scent, really, but those were semantics. Coffee language was founded in smell, a language I was fluent in. I understood what my coffee was telling me:

'Time for me now, the crazy girl you can take care off later.'

Agreeing with the delicious black liquid -it was always right- I called for a time out. But a little annoying something stopped me. Most called it the voice in the back of their heads. Some called it the angel on their shoulder.

I simply called it Dick.

It whispered traitorous thoughts into my ear. Festering, festering traitorous thoughts. Oh how I wanted to do nothing more than to ignore the devilish voice. Alas, it was not a possibility. Ignoring what it said would break one of the core principles in my life, which would make me something I would rather not be.

So I had no choice left than to act against my will.

"Can I offer you some coffee?"

At this point you probably wonder: Why? Why would I offer Raven and Summer a cup of my precious coffee which was worth more than twice its own weight in gold?

For one, I figured being nice would prolong my lifespan by a considerable margin. I also was the host, no matter how hard I was forced in that position. One of my principles dictated that as the host, I must offer them at least something.

But Kestrel, you might have said now. You did not give Flint anything when he asked. And yes, I did not. The virginity of a new coffee machine was for the owner and the owner alone. It was a principle which was ranked higher in the hierarchy, effectively negating the hospitality principle.

Thankfully Raven said 'no'. A one word answer. For the first time I felt something like gratitude towards her. It meant more coffee for me, after all.

"No thank you. I don't really like coffee.", Summer's answer on the other hand was a complete sentence. And she didn't like coffee, huh? That was not unsurprising, considering it who she was.

"Why is it not surprising?", damn I spoke the last part out loud, did I not? Damn you, traiterous mouth of mine!

"Well, I figured you were not the coffee type. That's all.", to be fair, I tried to be as vague as I was able to. She did not make it easy.

"Why?", Summer was persistent in knowing. The desire to know burnt in her every vein. Before I realized it she had leant forward with an intense stare directed towards me, the holder of the one thing she wanted the most at this moment.

I did not know why she was this persistent but it was not really important. Because at this very moment, seeing Summer's behavior remembered me of something in particular. Something I had seen before. What this birthed was a wonderful idea.

"Well, I simply thought that you were not there yet."

"Are you calling me a child?"

"Look, it is completely natural that the taste for bitter beverages is an acquired taste you mature into and not for anyone. Don't worry, it will come in time."

"I am mature!", gods she made it easy.

"Yes yes."

" Stop talking to me like I am a little girl! I am a grown woman.", I made a point of looking her up and down and ending it with an smile you would give a child just to entertain it.

"Of course you are."

"I AM! I could easily drink coffee if I wanted to. I just don't.", at this point she was right in front of my face.

Summer probably did not realize that she was playing directly into my hands when the words left her mouth. A fact which, by the looks of it, Raven did pick up and instead of doing anything she decided to let her leader run into it. Probably her revenge for bringing the red eyed girl to my apartment.

"Then prove it."

"Huh?", and just like that the wind was out of her sails.

"Prove that you can indeed drink coffee. If you manage to drink it without letting it out immediately afterwards I will stop insinuating that you are a child."

In all fairness to Summer, even though she turned a shade somewhere between white and green from the thought alone she accepted. The next few minutes were spent with me preparing the coffee and Summer squirming in her seat. She could not even look into the direction the orgasmic smell was coming from.

So she did not see how I exactly I prepared her coffee. Raven did notice but again did not say anything. So I could shake it up a little without pulling her attention away from the kitchen. All was in place now, all routes secured. The fish was reeled in.

Now let the show begin.

The walk towards Summer with her and my cup on my hands I elongated as much I could. Summer could not suppress the gulp and she got an even sicker complexion. I was not aware that it was possible, but Summer managed.

"It is time.", okay, remember, keep a straight face. Do not let anything show. Do not give her anything she could get suspicious about. You can do it!

Without as much as a twitch I calmly handed her the cup I prepared just for her. Cautiously, she accepted it, eyeing as if it was poison. Steamy, brown poison topped with foamed milk.

Three seconds passed before she did anything, but then she ever so slowly moved the rim towards her lip and took the smallest sip possible.

The effect was immediate. Her eyes widened, the color flushed back into her cheeks. And without any delay she gulped the entire thing down. Hot coffee. Hot, steamy coffee. Gulped down. In one go. How could her mouth even survive such a punishment.

Next came the realization and the victorious but slightly confused look in my direction.

"Say it. 'You are not a child'. Say It!"

"Tell me: What did it taste like?"

"Kind of sweet and rich and creamy and a little like cho...co...", watching the realization set in. It was just delicious. Her eyes widened, her finger rose to point in my direction. I responded with the biggest shit eating grin I could muster.

"Like chocolate? Really? How peculiar.", this time her cheeks definitely reddened from embarrassment. Ahh, how sweet victory tasted. Just as sweet this coffee of mine I took a victory sip from.

No, I did not serve her hot chocolate. That would have just been wrong. I simply -let's call it spiced- I simply spiced her coffee a little. Give it an extra flavor.

"Why did you do that?", the whine Summer let out actually made me feel a little bad. It was almost like kicking something small, cute and fluffy. 'Almost' was the keyword here. The little amount of guilt did not stand a chance against the great feeling of accomplishment I felt shooting through my system.

" I am well aware that you are some years short of being able to appreciate coffee. Did you actually expect me to give you actual coffee only to watch you spit it all over my apartment?", the angry and embarrassed look she gave me was absolutely priceless. But it was not the whole story, so I told her the deciding factor. It was only fair.

"Well, truth be told, I also wanted to see you squirm."

The look of betrayal on Summer's face I would never forget. And did my eyes trick me or did Raven let out a silent chuckle just now?

Well, whatever. More importantly, was it okay to feel pride over making someone pout? Was it a sign of a bad personality? The showing of the dark side which resided in everyone of us?

Let us be honest here: Who could really know?

"Another one?"

"Yes, please."


	20. Chapter 20: Useful Preparations

There was a point in everyone's life where they thought about what their life meant.

It was quite normal. Time was a constant for all of us and there was no person who was excused from it. It was hard to imagine a world without ourselves in it. So, some of us created something which they would remembered by.

Some did it for the closure so that they did not go with regret. Others to teach their potential children or even the coming generations an important lesson so that they would not repeat the same mistakes their parents made. The most easy and at the same time most effective thing to do was writing something like a biography.

I was probably the only one who did it for completely selfish and self-centered reasons.

It all started with a little optimism. When I was thinking about Remnant on a not so busy evening and what was about to happen in this world's future I was confronted with a realization: If, and that was a big if, if I was still alive at this point, I would probably need all the information I could get out of the depths of my brain.

Here came the problem: I had approximately two dozen years until the events of RWBY would transpire. The chance I would remember the details of the plot at this point was very, very slim. And like the saying went: The devil was in the details.

Born from this chain of thought was the following idea: A self-written book containing everything I knew, the theories I had come up with and still would and things I knew about the people around me as well as anything about the important players in Remnant's version of Game of Thrones.

I had to stop you now before you called it a diary. It was not. It was a notebook or a journal. Definitely not a diary. I did not write stuff like ' _Dear diary, today was shitty because..._ '. Instead, they were perfectly reasonable and logical and rational entries which could potentially save people. Or change the world. Whatever you preferred.

So you better not even dared to compare it to one of your silly and insignificant diaries you write dark and edgy poems into. I was looking at you, Summer! Not that there was anything wrong with writing a diary. You do you. You do you.

Anyway, the journal was one of the first steps towards surviving the events to come. The second was to pointedly avoid any major event with utmost precision and prejudice. The third would be to go back to living a normal life once Salem had been inevitably defeated by team RWBY and then, finally, move on in peace.

Truly, the plan was almost flawless.

The journal I had divided into two: The first half of the book contained what were basically character sheets. For Example:

 _First Name: Summer_  
 _Last Name: Rose_  
 _Age when first met: 17_  
 _Height: ca. 5 feet 4 inches_  
 _Day of Birth: unknown(did not care to ask)_  
 _Hobbies: Annoying me, doing good deeds, annoying me even more_  
 _Favorite food: Anything sweet, really._  
 _Favorite animal: dog_  
 _Occupation: Student(Huntress-in-training), Beacon Academy_

 _Noteworthy characteristics: Silver eyes, Does not know what a front door is, does not like coffee_

The second half contained everything I knew about the plot and the various details, which I had already written down at this point. I made sure to leave enough pages between each recollection of an event free so that I could write down theories and other stuff.

It was important to organize it after all.

"Are you writing in your diary again?", the pest called Rose spoke up. She was sitting to my left on top of the counter, playing with a rubric cube. Why she decided to bug me during my precious daily one hour break from work I had every Saturday afternoon? Because she was Summer.

"It is not a diary.", I retorted with not much energy. Mostly because I had to say it so many times, I started to grew tired of it.

"What are you writing?", Summer professionally ignored what I said and leaned over, looking into the pages of my journal. After a few seconds there was a sound of confusion.

"I mean it. What are you writing? And in what language?"

She could not read it. Why, you asked?

Because I was smart enough to encode the text. Which made it double-encoded because even decoded it was still not English. And there existed no cipher for it outside of my head.

My knowledge regarding RWBY was a secret as well as where my origin laid. A secret I was not willing to share. And I knew that those cliché plot points like character stumbling over 'the world shattering notes of the mysterious side character' were bound to happen with my luck. So I took a small but effective precaution.

In your face, Lady Fate!

"Something you would probably need to dedicate half a lifetime of studying to in order to read it.", my words only made her pout judging from the quick glance I shot in her direction. A second later her face lit up.

"Can you teach me?"

"No. It would make me using the code pointless in the first place."

"Pretty please? I am sure it would be fun.", and giving her another attack vector she could try and fail to bond with me over? Hell no. This pretty much was also reflected in my answer, though it was not the best answer to give since Summer reacted with poking the side of my head repeatedly and chanting 'Please please please' over and over again.

She acted like a small child. Not that it was not effective, if only for its annoyance factor. But I shan't crumble in the face of despair!

"No means no. Stop that and I will give you a plate of cookies for free."

"DEAL!", and it stopped. Food really was the magic bribe when it came down it. It made it quite easy. Probably wrong for me to call Summer a loose and easy girl but damn if she was not eager for some cookies.

... Why did my thoughts end with a double entendre? Was the insanity of the environment finally getting to me? No, that was not it. There was a much simpler answer to that question. Why had I not realized it before? It was easy, really.

All was Flint's fault.

And so, as I was shoveling cookies onto a platter with Summer watching, drool dripping down the corner of her mouth, the only thing going through my brain was a list with all the possible ways I could make Flint suffer. And every idea was even more glorious than the last.

Huehuehuehue...

"You're making a very creepy expression there.", damn Summer for ruining this moment for me.

"You must have imagined it."

"No, I really mean it. It's a strange mix between a leer and a murderous scowl. Kind of like the one Raven gets when she secures the last hamburger right under Qrow's nose."

"Imagined it!", I literally shoved the now full platter into her face, with only her fast hunter trained reflexes saving them from their fate. It would have been such a tragedy, making a young girl suffer from seeing her favorite snack crumbled into pieces, dirtied on the parquet floor. Well deserved suffering.

Truly terrible.

Instead it only shut her up and allowed me to focus on the journal entry I was writing. This one dealt with the conflict Blake and Weiss had, which pulled their entire team through the dirt. Something which could only be described as a very interesting test of loyalty. And effective, if not filled with a considerable amount of risks.

But it had paid off, in the end. Or would, considering current circumstances. Being stuck on Remnant at this point in time and all that. Which also showed. The society in contrast to the society we saw in RWBY; Let's just say that there was less open mindedness than in the show.

I had already seen Faunus. How could I not? You tended to focus on the unfamiliar when walking through the streets, and humans with actual, functioning animal parts were not something you saw on Earth. If you did, please let me know what stuff you were taking. For research purposes, of course.

Moving on, faunus did not have an easy time during the show. They had a worse time before it, the time I was in right now. Most acted very cautious near human strangers, more cautious than I did. Which should pretty much tell you how bad it really was that they were even more paranoid than little old me.

It got even to the point where a faunus mother was surprised about me not shouting at her daughter running into me and me simply waving it off, telling them 'it was no big deal'. The change from teary eyed expression to one of wonder and confusion on a child's face? It was enough to make me experience a minuscule amount of sympathy.

I ended up giving her some candy which she gladly accepted. Her mother thanked me with a cautious smile and then ushered her daughter away. Something about them still needing to go home in time for dinner. But, that topic was one for another time.

On another note, I wondered what dinner I should make tonight? A nice roast with dumplings and brown sauce sounded nice. I only had to ensure that Summer did not hear anything about it. Less she would invite herself and her team to join me. If it became reality, losing all of the sanity I had left could very well be a possibility.

Speaking of which, how could I go about making my apartment Summer-proof?

* * *

 **So... I finally could take the time to write something along the lines of an author's note. Some time has passed, I am still writing this story and wtf this story has reached 100 favs and nearly double the follows! That's kind of huge. I honestly did not expect for it to garner that much attention. Like, at all. Mostly because it is not the guns blazing type of story and it moves forward slowly, story wise.**

 **I can speak from personal experience that reads like that can be boring to read.**

 **Because of that me believes this is the right time to give out a big thank you to those of you who enjoy this story, even though it gets published in what I can only describe as a trickle. Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you.**

 **On another note, I watched the last three episodes of RWBY and I really start to like Raven. She can possibly be the most complex character on the show by far. And the information we got: Very juicy.**

 **(Spoiler Warning!: )And is it just me or does Raven sound affectionate and almost breaks the 'tough tribe leader'-act when she calls Yang stubborn?**

 **Until next time!**


	21. Chapter 21: Peace, we meet at last!

In every city there was at least one of a certain type of building whose importance was underestimated.

And no, I was not talking about the one your government uses, whatever its name is. Those are more overestimated than anything and only useful to prolong the simplest of tasks and processes to unimaginable lengths. Sad, but true.

No, the one building I was talking about was a place which could provide so much to those who entered it. A place filled with the greatest treasure we had, a place for young and old. Though, the young part of the equation was hardly met these days, simply because they did not care anymore. Instead they played video games or did similar things.

Though I understood where they were coming from -I loved to play video games too after all- there was a limit to everything and as much as I wanted to play video games, not doing anything productive was not healthy. I was saddened by the amount of people my age who could not appreciate the building in question anymore.

It was a tragedy, really.

For those of you who hadn't figured it out by now, of course I was talking about the library. It was a haven of peace and tranquility with no noisy people or customers in sight but only my books. It was great. Did you want to know what was also great?

Summer had no idea where I was and the last place she would search for me was the library. I did not know why, but the brunette avoided the city library at all costs from what Qrow told me.

Something along the lines of 'we spent too much time in Beacon's library already, no way she would set a foot in the city's.'. When I heard that, a brief prayer to Remnant's hunter curriculum was offered along with a bribe to Qrow to avoid any information about my whereabouts from reaching the bane of my peace.

What exactly the bribe was I sadly could not share. Consumer Confidence and all that jazz.

So, one wonderful Sunday late morning I was sitting in the library, a cup of coffee in my left hand and an open book in front of me. It was a history book. I figured that with me being stuck on Remnant, I might as well learn more about Remnant's past. I wanted to at least try to blend in after all.

Yes, I was aware that pretty much all the information could be found in the net. But there was something incredible soothing about the feel and smell of paper. It was kind of nostalgic, too.

The book I was reading right now told about the Great War. An conflict of epic scale, a fight for the very freedom of Remnant, a fight for tolerance. Heroes, villains, brave soldiers and humble generals and risky gambles which could have doomed as all. A tale of valor, bravery and boldness.

Yeah, it was pretty much your typical war time story.

The passage I was at now read as follows:

 _Under the command of lieutenant colonel Whitewalker the Valian Armed Forces found great success at the Battle of Winterburg during the beginning of the Northwest Sanus Offensive. A combined attack of the 24th airborne company and the 56th and 59th mechanized infantry battalions managed to push into and break through the entrenchment Mantle's 11th assault regiment lead by colonel Ravenwood had set up._

 _Winterburg was an obvious first target: It was a central point where all the roads this side of Sanus went through. Additionally, it was one of the few areas where the Grimm did not show a sudden increase in numbers due to the negativity produced by the ongoing war. Winterburg was also the last fortress Mantle held on Sanus. A victory here would accelerate Vale's progress in the war exponentially._

 _Prior to the attack lieutenant colonel Whitewalker send the 24th as vanguard to disrupt supply lines in what was later known to be the first time in Remnant history that paratroopers were dropped behind enemy lines. While the operation was a success it took its toll: the 24th had sustained heavy casualties over the month long fighting, 50 percent of their combat personnel were either killed in action or incapacitated._

I would have loved to soak up more of the wisdom this book contained, he tactics and maneuvers employed by the two leading the opposing armies. Sadly, like always in situations like these, I was interrupted by someone who apparently could not take a hint from seeing a young man sitting alone at a table in the far depths of this library.

"Excuse me, but is this one still free?", the offender in question had a female sounding voice, so I assumed that I dealt with a female. Why I did not know for sure? Mainly because I refused to look up from the book, trying my hardest to sink back into its warmth spending words of wisdom.

Maybe she went away if I did not answer? Judging from the chair scrapping over the floor and the shuffling of paper, fat chance with that. Time for phase two of 'leave me alone with my book':

The Stare Down™.

People did not like being stared at. I did not, you did not, not even the most self centered person on this ball of dirt did not like it. If you thought you were okay with it you probably had not experienced someone staring, really staring at you.

Sadly, for every rule which had ever existed, there was always the one exception. Something which looked at the rule and said 'screw this!'. In the case of the rule mentioned above the blonde exception was sitting right in front of me. Not only was she immune to my stare, her green eyes even returned it with double the intensity through her glasses.

I hated to admit it, but I was impressed.

"You can stop with that anytime. I won't go away."

I felt conflicted about my next course of action. On one hand, the girl in front of me would not annoy me with trying to strike up a conversation. On the other, there was absolutely no reason for her to sit at my table. There were plenty of others she could have sit at. Should I stand up and move to a different table? Ignore her? Shoo her away?

Decisions, decisions.

"You are reading about the Great War? Should you not have read all about it in middle school?", she asked me whilst I was still contemplating.

"I believe that refreshing knowledge is something everyone should do." Not a lie. I did believe that. "There is no shame in doing so."

Judging from the hum and the small accepting smile, she conceded this point to me.

"At what chapter are you?"

"The battle of Winterburg. Quite interesting, even though Whitewalker was an idiot there.", that seemed to have hit a mark, if her glowering at me was any indicator.

"Excuse me?!"

"I admit that he was quite the capable commander, but the airdrop was poorly supported, leading to unnecessary casualties."

"There was no possible way to support them. His own supply lines were interrupted by constant Grimm attacks. Organizing anything meaningful in any reasonable amount of time; There was no way to do it."

"Exactly. That's why they would have been better off trying to capture the port city Ulgaville 20 clicks north of Winterburg instead. It was not nearly as well guarded as his actual target. Easily defendable, too, and just as effective when to came to achieving the actual goal of the operation: Thinning out Ravenwood's troops and cutting his supplies from Mantle which arrived, you guessed it, per boat."

I was aware that discussions about historical events which contained fact after fact and hypothetical 'what ifs' were not everyone's cup of tea. They could become boring quite fast to listen to, making all not interested zone out. I knew that to be a fact for I had the same reaction when people started to argue about clothing or shoes around me, for example.

But both the Girl and I were quite enjoying ourselves. In the end I decided to let her stay.

We sat there for around one and a half hours, just talking about the Great War, key figures, even the huntsman academies. It was the most relaxing and enjoyable break I had since my arrival on Remnant. No whining, no emotional crisis, no dumb costumers and certainly no people coming to me for advice or whatever.

But, sadly, all good things had to come to an end. I would have loved to continue talking, but there were still some preparations to be done for Monday. Preparations Flint had pushed unto me, saying that the extra money would not hurt.

While he had a point there, it was not any help if you thought about the actual work involved: Preparing a coffee shop for the coming week was not an easy task, most of all if you considered Flint's plans to improve it. Something along the lines of 'the floor being to creaky'.

There was also another thing. Even though I could make a perfectly adequate standard coffee, there were more, way more ways to prepare the godly beverage. Flint thought it would finally be time for me to start making coffee for the customers, so he had offered to teach me the way of the barista.

I had made the decision two weeks ago. Since then, he gave me lessons every late afternoon till evening with what what was practically like night school. The upside: I learned to brew and mix really tasty coffee. The downside: My free time was very much limited.

After I said my goodbyes and was on my way home, I realized that I had not even asked what her name was. Oh well, since we decided to meet in the library next Sunday again it was not a big deal. I will simply ask her then.

But why did she seem familiar?


	22. Chapter 22: It rhymes with 'Posey'

It happened at a weekday. Which meant I had to work in typical fashion as it was prim and proper for an employee of _Bean Here_. The day was filled with rushing from table to table and doing whatever was required of me. Since I had not reached a level in the skills I needed to work as a barista in Flint's eyes, these duties were only those you expected a lowly waiter to have.

The day for me to go up to the next level was not reached yet.

There were a few familiar faces. Auntie Violet, of course, but also her sister Rosie. Though it was strange since Violet had arrived, drank her coffee and left before Rosie even set a foot into our establishment. Normally one of them would wait for the other. Something along the lines of retirement allowing them to finally catch up with each other.

It was the first sign for the oncoming storm, a sign I should have noticed and would have were it not for the constant never-ending work I had piling up on me.

The second was the seating position itself. Normally Rosie would have seated herself near the entrance directly besides the front window. This time she picked the most secluded table we had.

The third and final clue that something was wrong was the fact that Rosie ordered a caffe mocha and a cinnamon roll besides the usual latte. She never had done that before, but I only shrugged at that. She had always been weird, I saw no need for me to question it. Or so I thought.

When I finally arrived at her table in a far corner and placed the ordered food and drink in front of her with a smile on my face, Rosie grabbed my wrist and held me back just as I was about to return to my work.

"Sit with me for a little.", the smile on her face told me everything I needed to know. I had no choice in the matter. It did not stop me from trying though.

"I am still on duty.", this was probably the most pathetic excuse I could have come up with.

"Do not worry your little head. Flint approves of this.", she basically forced me into the chair opposite of her and pushed the roll and mocha towards me. "He said it is fine for you to take a break. Now sit down and eat. Its on me, of course."

I could not say no. I was aware of that. Maybe it was because I had grown more excepting of people pushing me about, but I stopped arguing for an already lost case and did as I was told. Besides, the roll was delicious and I never had a problem with free food.

Until I finished my meal we just sat there. It left me with enough time to think about the predicament I was in. The most important question was obviously the why. Why did she want to talk with me? For what purpose? What did she gain from it?

Finally, after I had taken the last bite from my cinnamon role and drank the last sip of mocha, she spoke up.

"You probably are confused as to why I wanted to talk with you."

"That's an understatement.", for some reason she laughed at that. "How long do you plan to drag it out? I am fairly certain Flint only said yes to five minutes tops. Cut to the chase if you would."

"Since you are so pleasantly blunt, let me answer in kind.", a grin played over her lips. "Why did you turn down his offer?"

"Offer?"

"Yes, offer.", Rosie rested her elbows on the table. "The offer to train you, that is."

"He is already training me, though."

"Not as a barista, stupid. I am talking about teaching you how to fight.", she definitely saw me pull a funny expression. "So you were aware what I was talking about and played dumb, mhm? Next time, be kind enough not to beat around the bush and cut to the chase if you would."

Apparently throwing my own words back at me had become a favourite pastime to those around me.

"I simply don't need it."

"That is bollocks and you know it.", she rested her head in her hands. "You are surrounded by hunters. That fact alone should make you wary. Civilians and hunters do not mix that well. And you have run into trouble with the more violent people in town. Don't tell me you actually believe they will simply leave you alone after what you did?"

Instead of saying anything I crossed my arms and looked down at the table, only glancing at her now and then. My silence was enough of an answer.

"That's what I thought.", the grin she had up till now was dropped. "You are scared, aren't you?"

And as quickly as it had dipped down my head shot up.

"How did you arrive at that conclusion?"

"No need to get defensive.", Rosie waved me off. "At the very least you are self-aware. And speaking of aware: Did you know Flint asked me to train you a couple of days ago?"

"He did what?!", why was I not aware of this? What games was the old bastard playing?

"I was just as surprised as you are now. I did decline at first.", she played with her empty cup but did not break eye-contact. "There is something hunters learn to listen to and it is their gut-feeling. And mine screams at me that training you could very easily become a mistake."

A small pause before she continued.

"He tried to convince me with the story of the encounter you had. The one were you had a bit of a brawl. It only strengthened this bad feeling I had.", she stopped playing with the cup. "He thinks the way you reacted was because of a sheltered upbringing. That you were sensitive to violence. We both know that is not, at the very least, the whole truth. You are not scared of hurting others. You do not feel guilty about acts of violence. The only thing you felt bad about was the unnecessary beat-down you gave him at the end of the fight."

Her head dipped to the left.

"The first time I met you, you felt like an alien. As if you did not belong here. And even though this feeling still lingers on, only a week after our first meeting you have near perfectly blended in. Thinking about it I realized what type of person you are.", a small pause. "Giving you another tool to use is not something I was willing to risk. But Flint has a better intuition than I do. When he did not change his opinion after I told him all that, I agreed to train you. If he thinks training you will ultimately help, I thought it was worth a shot."

Her head dipped to the right.

"Colour me surprised when he told me all downtrodden that you said no to his offer. Like I already mentioned, I am curious as to why. Don't worry, you only have to verify.", Rosie gave me what was probably supposed to be a disarming smile. "Is it a matter of self control? Mitigating the damage? Something along the lines of 'a sword can kill one in the same time a rifle takes for ten so you choose the sword over the rifle'?"

"... Yeah, something like that. I don't want to lose my current perspective.", was I that transparent or was she simply that good? The response I gave Rosie elicited a chuckle out of her. My eyes narrowed a bit. How was it something to laugh about?

"Sorry, sorry.", she did not sound sorry. "But I think it is funny for you to be one scared the most by what you could turn out to be. Let me ease your mind a bit: Even if you begin your training right now and would train as much and as hard as you could, you would never achieve the level most others you know will reach. It is too late for that."

I was aware of this. There was a distinct difference between someone who began when they turned eight and someone who started at 19. Muscles, bones, dexterity of limbs; All of it was greatly effected by an early start. There was no chance of me becoming anything near the veteran huntsman level we see in RWBY. But I still did not want to do it. Not because it would be wasted time. I am fairly certain I could train up to the level of a fresh Beacon graduate.

Being weaker than or comparable to the majority gave you a certain perspective. Physical means of solving a problem were not chosen as often simply because the cost would be too great. But even someone who freshly graduated from a huntsman academy or even huntsman prep-school was someone who quickly ended up using violence, ergo the fastest method to get what they wanted.

Strength was a drug. Superiority was a trap you could easily slip into and loose control of yourself, becoming an icon of self indulgence. I knew myself better than others did. I was aware how easy it would be for me to fall into the habit. That was not something I wanted to get into. There was no way I would end up a rabid dog. No way.

Pushing her chair back Rosie stood up, placing a couple of lien on the table and turned around to leave.

"Thank you for the talk. If you plan to take up the offer some day in the future, I am still willing to train you if only to see what would come out of it.", with these parting words the old lady walked out of _Bean Here_ , leaving me to dwell on my thoughts.

I did not return to working for another ten minutes.

* * *

 **Hoped you had a good christmas and I wish you a happy new year!**


	23. Chapter 23: The first Night

**News of my death were greatly exaggerated.**

 **Time to be honest: This chapter was rotting away on my hard-drive since early January and I forgot it even existed. I actually forgot about fanfictions in general and various other stuff as well. Thankfully it did not extent to how breathing, eating or sleeping worked. So no, I am not dead or undead for those of you who wondered. Personal responsibilities really are a hassle sometimes, aren't they?**

 **Anyway, here is the new chapter and as an apology for the wait I have a little bit of a surprise for you tomorrow. Make of it what you will.**

* * *

When a very weird feeling woke me up one very early morning, I knew one single fact before I even had the time to collect myself: I had become a victim. I was not exactly sure what kind of victim, but someone definitely had been doing something I did not like.

My room was pitch-black. Well, the room itself was not but there was no light ergo I could not see anything at all. It made spotting anything not just very hard, but impossible. Under normal circumstances I would have woken up at a time where the sun was high enough, alas bright enough, to cast its rays through the cracks of my roller shutters.

A light grumble from my stomach made my brain, which was still in power saving mode, forget the weird feeling I had before and instead almost magically pulled me towards my fridge. Being as awesome as I was, I did not need silly things such as light to get to the exact location of my fridge. Midnight snacks, though rare, were very much important enough to justify memorizing my apartment's layout to a T.

The moment I opened my fridge, a ghostly light washed through my apartment and I grabbed the first tasty enough looking thing I saw. A big slice of a cheese I had found on the market the other day, a cheese which was very close to Parmesan cheese; Something I enjoyed eating on its own without anything else diminishing its glorious taste.

Oh. I needed a knife and cutting board, didn't I?

Turning around and moving towards my cupboard I completely forgot to close the fridge again. Halfway I remembered but shrugged it off. Not that a few seconds of leaving it open would spoil any food or cost too much energy.

It was only when I had retrieved the items and was placing them on my table I noticed something strange. On my right, there was the shadow of something on the floor which was not supposed to be there. Like, right beside me. Slowly, ever so slowly I looked up and to my right.

A black and red creature.

I was not ashamed to admit that the scream which followed was of such a high pitch and intensity and length it could have shattered a truckload of wineglasses and probably the truck carrying them. My feet left the ground for a moment, I was sure of that, and my arms did a very, very strange series of movements no one would be able to describe without the words 'spastic' and 'dance' used at least thrice in the same sentence.

"Impressive. I was not aware the human voice could reach so high.", a very familiar sounding voice spoke up with more than a little bit of amusement. "Nor did I know people could move in such a way without breaking every bone in their body."

With a hand on my chest and trying my hardest to calm down I took a second look at the creature which had invaded my home. However, it was not a creature. It was a certain avian girl which had found its way through my window and was sitting on a chair in my apartment, legs crossed, arms crossed and smirking all the way.

The last part felt so wrong. Raven did not smirk, she did not grin and she did not smile. For all the time I had known her, which was not long, fair enough, I had never seen her show any kind of positive emotion. But quickly answer before she decided to pluck this Kestrel.

"Raven.", I greeted the girl slash huntress-in-training slash violent battle maniac, trying my hardest not to show any caution. "What are you doing here?"

"Straight to the point. I like it.", and I did not like the fact you are liking it! "I have some questions for you."

Who was she?! Seriously, who was she and what did she do to Raven? Did I enter some weird parallel universe where Raven was the arrogant gung-ho girl who gave the harem protagonist trouble all along the way? Did that make me the harem protagonist?

No, I never had any luck with ladies. Was it Taiyang, this blonde women-magnet of a bastard? Taiyang was the harem protagonist? In what way was Raven talking to me giving him trouble? Was it possible for Raven to try to convince me to collect seven balls to summon a dragon who would fulfil my wish for world domination only for it to turn out to be a giant plot to allow Raven to conquer the heart of the guy she was strategically ignoring for more than a year and planned to make her advances on during their quest to stop me?!

… It was safe to say not all of my mental faculties were functioning correctly at this point in time.

Thankfully I had started to wear actual pyjamas when I went to sleep instead of the simple yet comfortable combination of boxer-shorts and t-shirt. I adopted it out of paranoia of Summer visiting me during night-time for whatever reason. It hadn't happened yet, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, telling me it was only a matter of time.

"What questions?", focusing back on the intruder, the diplomatic approach was probably for the best. "I can not think of a single thing I know which you don't."

"Lets start off with something simple, if only to go easy on your coffee-deprived brain.", low blow, Raven. Low blow. And so very much deserved. "You talked about interpreting 'The strong live, the weak die' differently."

"And?"

"I am curious. What is that interpretation you spoke of?", outwardly, I nodded along. Inwardly, I was screaming. WHY?! Why did I always end up digging these holes myself? Making matters worse, I personally did not even have an interpretation of my own. I just had wanted to sound cool, for gods' sake! I had not put much if any thought into it!

"Uhm...", yes brain, good job. Buy some time for me to formulate a sufficient answer. "Uhm..."

"I don't have all night.", Raven began to impatiently tap on her arm with a finger.

"Uhm...", any moment now.

"Are you challenged?"

"Uhm...", any moment.

"You have one more try."

You got this, Kestrel. You got this. Just keep calm and carry on. Just choose the first stupid idea and go with it. No pressure. No pressure at all.

"Strength is relative, really.", her eyebrow arched up but otherwise she did nothing. Good job, me! Commence Operation 'Bullshit your way out!'.

"There is no common indicator for strength. Fighting prowess does not help you if you want to disarm a bomb, for example. Strategists are arguably more valuable in any army than the strongest fighter because no matter how good the fighter; Without actually good plans and strategies, everything would fall apart.", the first words I could not say without some stuttering.

"Then there is also emotional strength. More often than not, not breaking down when faced with a dangerous situation and pushing on without hesitating is not in any form correlated to physical strength or prowess.", what bongos was I spouting? Doing that did not mark you as a emotionally strong person, it only marked you as a suicidal moron. What the hell,brain? Even worse, Raven's face adopted a frown as if she had gained something from it. Please, share your wisdom for I did not get anything from the words coming out of my own mouth!

"That was more thoughtful of an interpretation than I had assumed.", What the actual... did she just agree with me? Also, lady, you did not know me. How could you assume I was not a thoughtful individual? I told her such to which she just scoffed before answering.

"Considering it is you? Yes.", again, ouch. "Forgive me for saying but you are not the most... well, you know what I mean."

"At least I do not run around and wave my sword in other people's faces whenever and wherever it pleases me."

"Because you don't have the sword for it."

My lower jaw dropped. What the hell? Since when did Raven do witty comebacks and not try to make a kebab out of me? Once again I questioned what universe I was in and, this time, my sanity as well.

"Close your mouth. No one is interested about what's inside of you.", my mouth snapped shut with a clack. Then came the pain as my teeth hit each other with too much force. A wince followed and the next few seconds I was preoccupied holding my mouth and trampling with my legs.

"...", Raven looked at the display with a once again raised eyebrow. Please do not comment.

Slowly the pain ebbed away, enough for me to carefully inspect my teeth with my tongue. Thankfully I did not accidentally chip off a piece of one of them. It would have been just plain embarrassing and more importantly, I did not want to go to the dentist. The reason obviously being the money it would cost. I was definitely not reluctant because of fear or anything like that. HAHAhaha... ha...

I told this myself every time the job which shall not be named was mentioned.

"Why are you so interested anyway?", I asked her before she could fully open her mouth and comment, taking the wind out of her sails. My already diminished ego could not take another hit.

"Summer is interested in you. No one knows why but I want to find out."

"About that: Is there any way for you to discourage her from approaching me?"

"Why would I?", her head cocked to the other side. "I do not particularly care how much time she spends around you. If Summer wants to work on your nerves and not mine, more power to her."

"Then why ask?", because Raven, no matter how much you wanted to refute it, the very fact that you were here and were asking these questions showed you cared at least a little somewhere deep down in your raven-black heart.

...Oh gods that was a pun wasn't it?

Damn you, Yang who had not been born yet!

"Simple curiosity. And remember the fridge.", with those parting words Raven stood up from her chair, moved towards the window she had come from and jumped down, down into the darkness. There was some serious pondering to be had about the point of this visit.

On the other hand there was nothing I could even deem with a response. Hunters were weird, after all. Her parting words however were worth at least some consideration which I realized shortly after. I left the fridge open for the entirety of the talk. Which in return meant...

"MY FOOD!"


	24. Chapter 24: A small Glimpse

**Warning: This entire chapter is a giant tease. Proceed to read with caution. This writer does not take any responsibility for whatever it will do to you. ;D**

 **P.S. You will probably hate me for doing this.**

* * *

"Okay, you wait here. We contact your guardian.", with those few words the policeman closed the door behind him, leaving Yang Xiao Long, age sixteen, alone in a small cell of the local police station.

The only thing she could do at this point was to sit down on the bed and resign herself to her fate. And what a fate that was. Looking back, Yang had to ask herself why she had to do that. It was moronic, really. And she did not even have a plan past winging it on the go.

Why did she think simply waltzing into a famous -or more like infamous- club and 'asking' for information was ever a good idea? Obviously because the first time, though not finding what she had searched for, she got off scot-free. Yang had simply assumed for all the times after that it would still work like a charm.

And now Yang was in jail, waiting for her dad to show up. How should she explain her actions? Her father knew that she had not been the most rule abiding girl, but he had never assumed she would end up in bar brawls and, later, restrained on a police station.

Not getting one step closer to finding her biological mother did not help Yang's mood, either.

Half an hour passed, leaving Yang with nothing but her mind and a wall to stare at. And only having your thoughts to distract you, the thoughts would wander without fail. Hers wandered to the argument which would unavoidably follow. If possible she would give anything to avoid that one.

After what seemed like an eternity and shortly before she died of boredom, the cell door finally opened. The same policeman walked into the room, but the person who followed him; It was not her dad. Following the policeman into the room was none other than... her uncle Kestrel.

"Hello, Yang."

Fuck.

"I tried calling Mr. Branwen since your father isn't home. Did not answer the call. So I felt free to contact the next legal guardian in line you have, Mr. Harvest here. You're lucky he has already settled everything so you are free to go. Next Tuesday you can come and collect your bike. Don't do it again."

Yang did not look at the one who talked. Instead, she looked her uncle in the face with an sour expression. Why? Why was he here? Should he not be on one of his travels right now?

Her uncle did not say anything, which unnerved her probably more than it should have. Instead, he looked at her with a face holding a mixture of disappointment, annoyance and... something else.

When he did not say anything after ten seconds even the policeman got uncomfortable. After fifteen seconds, the younger man began to squirm. After twenty, her uncle finally deemed the period of silence to be enough.

"Come. I drive you back home.", he turned his head towards the police officer. "Thank you, officer, for your service."

"Um.", the poor man looked just as out of place as she felt. And he was a policeman in a police station! "Happy to serve. Sir."

The walk out of the building was one of the most embarrassing and degrading moments of Yang's life. The entire walk to Kestrel's car, he walked slightly behind her and to her right. One of his hands was placed on her shoulder and gripped it gently, but with enough force to let her know that bolting away was not an option.

Kestrel only spoke up again when they both sat in his car and were waiting for the first ample they came across to turn green.

"If there was a prize for the dumbest thing done during teenage years, you have good chances to get into the top five.", when Yang did not answer and refused to even look anywhere else but straight ahead, he continued. "What good did you think would come out of walking into a den full of criminals, no plan in hand? And don't even get me started on your methods. They were atrocious from what I have heard."

"Why are you here?", Yang was having none of it. She already had a terrible evening. She needed something strong to drink. Or a cuddle from Zwei. She did not need him listing and criticizing every single mistake she had made. "Should you not be... wherever you go when you are away for months?"

"Two. Two to three Months.", yes, as if that somehow made it better. "And a uncle can't just catch up with his nieces?"

"He can. Not you.", the ample light turned green and the car moved along. It was late at night, late enough that they were sitting in the only car on the road. "Why are you here?"

"I did actually come to visit you two. Imagine how hurt I was when Tai informed me over the scroll that Ruby was at a sleepover party. I asked him about you, who was not there as well, and he had no idea where you went. Your dad assured me that would not be a problem, however, and that you are a big girl who can take care of herself."

A small glance was thrown in her direction. "And then, just when I was about to plunder Qrow's hidden liquor stash and wait for your return, the police called me. Told me about the, let's call it incident, the incident you had at local seedy bar.", another glance. "Do you know how annoying it is to bail an overenthusiastic teenager out of jail?"

Yang looked down at her feet. Annoying. She hated this word so much when it came out of his mouth. Annoying. Every single stupid thing she did he called 'annoying'. Never infuriating, or saddening: Only annoying.

And Kestrel never got angry, which only made it worse in her eyes. He never shouted at her. He never even raised his voice. Instead, Kestrel made her feel worse than before and gave Yang a look of disappointment as if she knew better.

Worst part: Deep down Yang knew better. She simply was fed up with people not telling her anything. Her father did not want to talk about Raven, Qrow simply tried to make her stay away from Raven. The only small and vague source of anything regarding Raven was Kestrel; and even he did not help Yang in finding her mother.

"How is school?", his voice lightened up a bit. "I heard you are quite high up there on the score boards."

What? What kind of jump was that? Yang's head shot up and her eyebrows raised up in an incredulous expression. A small amused smile hushed over his mouth. He always had loved watching Ruby's and her expressions whenever he caught them off guard, hadn't he?

"No matter what you think, I do not want to spend the precious time I have with you addressing every stupid thing you did tonight.", he threw her a knowing look. "Gods know the time we have is already limited as it is."

Yang... could not really argue with that.

"Things are going... well. Professor Chrome said I definitely have a shot at Beacon if I continue like this."

"Sounds promising. I believe I don't have to ask about friends."

"No. You really don't."

Her uncle let out a hum which could have meant anything, really. Yang turned her head and looked out of the window, watching the lights pass by. The only companion they had was the light hum of the car's motor. The next question coming from her mouth, Yang was not sure where it came from.

"Why are you here?", this definitely got his attention.

"Here?"

"Where do you come in? Tai: Obviously my dad. Raven: My mother, if only by birth. Qrow: Her brother and my blood-related uncle. Summer: Ruby's mom and mother figure. But you?", Yang rested her chin on the palm of her hand and looked at him. "I just don't understand. Why do you keep sticking around?"

She had asked this question before. Back then the adults had danced around the question. She did not expect him to answer this time either. Maybe that was the reason she asked: To reinforce what she already thought she knew about them.

"Truth be told: I have no idea.", he finally said after some time, probably collecting his thoughts. "There are a lot of maybes involved. Maybe I come back, albeit every time only briefly, because I feel like I owe you two something. Maybe I am just a sentimental fool.", her uncle stopped the car before he looked Yang straight into her eyes.

There was no deceit in them. And no matter how much she searched for it, there was no dishonesty in his voice. After a long sigh her uncle continued.

"Look. I realize I am not the most social or even responsible person there is and I am not around as much as you think I should. Just know that Ruby and you both mean more to me than you realize. Maybe you will, at some point.", Kestrel extended an arm and patted her on the head. A familiar gesture. One she never minded coming from him. "There are a lot of things I can't tell you. But I can tell you this with certainty: No matter what, no matter when, the moment you will need me, really need me, I will have your back. Even if you don't want me to."

His hand left the top of her head and the car was moving again. Both were well aware how cheesy of a line it really was and he probably only worded it that way to get some reaction out of her. Middle-aged bastard. Right now that was not important, however.

"Why?", she had not expected him to actually give her something. Yang needed to know. Right now, there was nothing more she longed for in this world. Kestrel had dangled something in front of Yang which she could not resist.

The smile returned to his face, the softest one she had seen from him for years. Though she could not overlook the teasing edge of it.

"Isn't it obvious? It's what you do for family.", somehow, she understood his cryptic response.

She still wanted to punch him for it.

* * *

 **A little bit of a post-chapter note: I was not really sure if I should do this or not at first, to be honest. Considering the Events of RWBY are way out there in the distant future. But I thought to myself "hey, small glimpses would not hurt anyone and there could be people who like it.".**

 **I will probably post one of those every ten or fifteen or twenty chapters, if the reception is good.**

 **Anyway, till then: sayonara!**


	25. Chapter 25: A possible Link?

Ever since I had been introduced to books back in first grade I had a thing for the ancient times.

I did not really know why, but there was this everlasting desire for more knowledge about these time periods. Having involuntarily been transported to another world had not changed this. The moment I was in front of something even remotely related to the long past history of our species, I could not help myself but take it apart and study for hours until I was satisfied.

There was one question which had not been on my mind ever since arriving here. One mystery I was not even aware of until one fated day. The day I wrote about the not-even-alive-at-this-point Team RWBY. Weiss in particular.

I was brainstorming ideas regarding Myrtenmaster, some possible ways for it to work the way did. There were still a lot of books about dust I needed to read at this point, leading to many things I thought about its inner workings to be off by a hilarious factor. It was made even worse since I could have just looked it up with my scroll.

Idiocy aside, there was something, a small thought which made me pause: How come Weiss' name was Weiss? It did not make any sense. Obviously she received her name because of her white hair. Which should not have been possible.

As you may or may not have known about Remnant, names given to children after the Great War were related to colors, directly or indirectly. That was a fact. Not everyone did it, of course. Some traditionalists still used the admittedly larger pool of names not having anything to do with colors. They were the minority, ignored by most and shrugged off. Sometimes they were being called weirdos and some insulted them for 'supporting an ancient and evil system', but there really wasn't much else.

They were not a problem. And not really interesting, either. However, there was something else which was. And this something was up there in the north, in Atlas.

The problem was the Schnee family. Or, to be more precise, their family name and its actual meaning being the same as the one it had in a language not spoken on Remnant. It was an impossible connection.

After all, for something to have such a connection, the meaning of the word had to be exactly what it possessed in its language of origin. Especially the indirect relation to color required it to be very specific, very precise. Meaning did not just fall out of the sky. There had to be some sort of giver. And _Schnee_? Or _Weiss_? Really?

The chances for these words to develop the exact same meaning they possessed on Earth without its language of origin existing here were slim. Astronomically slim. So how did it happen? How did they come about this knowledge?

Obviously, German was not a spoken language here. Nor a written one. Which made this a puzzle with puzzling implications. The prospect awakened a curiosity in me being nearly too much for my person to handle. I could not stop myself from checking any and every history book containing information which dated back to about 300 years ago.

In the end, the exact sum of success I had was a very round number. One could say it was the roundest number there ever was, not counting Pi. The total amount of success I found was zero. It was not due a lack of effort. I worked through A LOT of books, over a period of time spanning multiple days, sacrificing ungodly amounts of coffee and suffering many sleepless nights. There simply was nothing to be found in those books.

The words were used, yes, but it was never once talked about their history, only their meaning, usage and general context. Truly frustrating. The possibility was high, very high for me to lose my hair before this research had come to a close.

With a sigh usually heard from tired old men I closed the book in front of me, having found nothing. Again. Leaning back in the chair I let my tired eyes roam through the library, a sight I had very much grown accustomed to, even began to like, no matter how blurred it had become.

Once again the quietness in this grand hall of knowledge was soothing. Here you could just lean back, forget about everyday life, close your eyes and let your thoughts wander. Bliss, I found thee.

"You sure look comfortable.", a voice most welcome spoke up from my left, warm but still measured, which prompted me to open my eyes again and look in the direction of the owner. "Never mind, are you okay?"

It was my old new friend, Library Girl. To think she cared enough to ask for my well-being after only discussing history once. What a great person she was. She did not need to worry, however.

When I told you I had many sleepless nights behind me, I meant it. For me there was not much of a felt difference, insomnia made you quite resistant to the negative effects of sleep deprivation, but people did start to notice if you had even less sleep than usual.

"I am fine.", I waved her off even when my view blurred a little again. Yeah, I probably had to retcon the no felt difference part."Just stayed up a little too long, conducting research."

"... I want you to answer me honestly:", was it just me or did her voice start to sound sterner than before? "For how long did you go without sleep?"

That... was actually a good question.

"... 20 hours.", I told her after checking my scroll's clock. Huh. 20 hours. I was impressed by myself. And worried. Mostly worried. Something she shared with me if the judgemental look she gave me was anything to go by.

"Are you an idiot?", why did I suddenly feel like a naughty child caught with one hand in the cookie jar? "Do you have any idea what a lack of sleep can do to you?"

"... yes?"

"Okay then. Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"List possible side effects a lack of sleep can have on your body.", I did not know any of them. I told her such. She did not look amused. "How irresponsible can you possibly get?!"

"Look, its not such a big deal." I tried to appease her, seeing the situation slowly taking a turn for the worse.

"It is a big deal and don't you dare tell me otherwise.", It did not work. "Not sleeping enough is one of the worst things you can do to your body. If you don't allow your body to rest enough, you can suffer diabetes, high blood pressure, or even strokes or heart failures."

I tried to argue but right on time to prove her point a wave of fatigue hit me. My vision became blurry again. This time I had to grip the armrests of my chair and struggle to stay upright, however. After a few seconds and succeeding in staying upright, it passed.

"I told you so.", the girl in front of me let out a heavy sigh. "You really should go home and sleep."

"I can't. I still have to finish this.", I lifted up the book in question. Already having read through half of it surely there was still a little time left to finish it. She held, of course, a different opinion and wasted no time in confiscating the book.

" _The 2nd Dawn of Dialogue_? Interesting choice. Which it will be still when you continue to read it at a later date. Now, take a break.", the reluctance must have shown on my face. But she was nothing but resolute. I could do nothing but accept this round as my loss.

"Come, I help you on your way home. I don't want you to be hit by traffic."

Before joining her in leaving the library and before packing all my stuff I wrote the word 'history' in my note book on one of the pages reserved for 'general information about Remnant', a small insignificant scribbling of the word. A little reminder about what I still had to research in the near or distant future.

I would not give up. It simply was that important.

"Have you already eaten?", my companion asked me upon leaving the library behind us. "Because if you have not I know of a very good place we could swing by."

"Didn't you tell me to go to sleep barely a moment ago?"

"I told you go to take a break. Eating something falls under that category. Besides, they have a very good selection of tea. Baked goods, too."

"No coffee?", I asked with the best hopeful look in my eyes I could muster.

"Technically they have coffee.", what does that mean? How can someone technically have coffee? "Whilst they do serve coffee, you won't get any. Caffeine is the last thing you need in your current state."

"I am a grown man! I can drink whatever I want.", I protested rather loudly, much to the chagrin and/or amusement of the pedestrians nearby.

"No means no!", she refused, equally loud. "No coffee for you. You will eat something, drink some tea -no black tea- and once you are back at home you will lay down in your bed and sleep."

"I am a grown man-"

"No caffeine and you will lay down in your bed and sleep once you are at home!", there was to be no more arguing, her tone said as much. Man, she definitely would make a great teacher in the future. I briefly wondered if she considered it.

"Not interested.", she denied when I asked her. "I don't study at Beacon only to end up as an instructor."

For some reason my sense of irony was tingling. I did not give it much thought, too busy sulking about the unfairness of it all. No coffee. In what brutal, deadly world did we live in?

As if on cue another wave of fatigue hit me once again, something I tried to hide but failed. Thankfully she did not give another comment and simply watched me like a hawk in case I stumbled and fell.

Half an hour later we stood in front of a cafe somewhere in the western part of Vale. And what a cafe it was. Since not giving you a description of the establishment in question would be a great disservice I was more than happy to do.

The name of the cafe was _Cof-Isley_ , proudly showcased by a sign above the entrance. And what a sign it was. The letters were glowing blue, probably neon lights, and were placed on a dark background.

It took me a second longer to realize said background was actually showing a view of space, strongly stylized of course and containing zodiac signs I did not recognize.

The interior of the cafe was also kept in a sci-fi theme, with chairs looking like rockets and tables like holo desks, copied straight out of movies. Every window looked like a viewport, every square inch of the walls was covered in Sci-fi motifs, be it spaceships, planets, gas giants, spaceships or aliens.

Speaking of aliens, apart from the waitresses and waiters who ran around and did their job in what looked like crew uniforms, the cafe actually had a band playing live music with every member, you guessed it, stuck in an alien costume and probably sweating like hell under it.

Somewhere deep down I cringed at the name, though for the love of gods in the moment I did not know why. I cringed again after seeing the big menu board right beside the entrance, displaying all the different futuristic sounding stuff you could buy and consume here and ending with the sentence 'Straight from a galaxy far, far away'.

"I did not expect you to like something this childish, to be honest.", and how could you blame me, it totally was out of character for her. Then again, I did not really know much about her personality to begin with. Which had been a common theme around here on Remnant.

"Something wrong with that?!", she actually turned a little red. And even redder once I began to chuckle, which only fed the chuckling even more. "Stop giggling!"

"Sorry, sorry. Could not help myself.", my response elicited a humph and a grumpy-cat-face from her. Which did not help in stopping the chuckles continuing to erupt from my lips. At all.

They died with the next random seeming thought I had soon after we walked in. This cafe was childish. There was not a doubt about it. Now why did I get a foreboding feeling from this?

This feeling did not go away when a waiter greeted us. It did not go away when he lead us to an unoccupied table. It did not go away after the waiter had left to attend to another table and gave us time to browse the menu.

We spotted each other when I turned around to ask the waiter for a cup of water. At the same time she lifted her head to answer a question from her table mate and looked in my direction by pure chance.

In this very moment my brain finally managed to connect the dots. Childish things attract childish people. And there was someone who was most of the time the very definition of childish. The same someone whose shock was written in their face and who lifted up a fork which still had a piece of cake on it.

Let it be said there was something about a huntress pointing a trembling fork in your general direction with wide eyes. There was even more to it if she started to vibrate on the spot, exponentially increasing the risk of a fork flying in your general direction due to various factors.

Summer took a deep breath, her cheeks visibly inflating. She actually held it for a few seconds before her mouth opened. I did not know what kind of crime I had committed, but it did not matter. The only thought swimming through my mind was an _Oh boy, here we go._

"TRAITOR!"


	26. Chapter 26: Bad Jokes, Worse News

In the moment I felt a plethora of different emotions. I probably could have held an entire lecture about every thing running through me right now. The most prominent however was confusion.

Sadly I could not address it, nor could I avoid the situation entirely. A look around told me as much. Everyone was staring. All the guests and all the employees. Summer did not care for it in her current state, but I very much did.

So, before this entire situation escalated even more and my companion and I would be thrown out of the cafe alongside the perpetrator I did the only thing I could think of: Hurrying over to the table Summer and her companion were sitting at and cut off further chances of her creating even more of a spectacle.

The entire walk to the table Summer was seated at, I gave every person I came across a forced smile. Each one was reciprocated with a judgemental look. Once again, damn you Summer. After what felt like an eternity and unjustifiably feeling like the worst person on this rock, I finally arrived.

"What are you doing?", I hissed at her with what I felt was righteous anger. My behind landed on the free chair opposite of her, my narrowed eyes never leaving hers.

"What are you doing?!", she hissed back with fury equal to mine. "You went out and did not even think about inviting me?!"

"You told me finals were coming up!", which she actually did. I did not remember exactly when, but she did. "I did not want to bother you during your preparations."

The last part was a big fat lie. She could have easily studied with me in the library. Heck, it probably would have been more effective for her to do so. Problem was, Summer probably would have dragged me down since I was not able to concentrate on two things at the same time. Unlike her, sitting beside someone else and holding a conversation with them did halter me in my ability to focus.

"Everybody needs a break now and then.", damn it why did everybody say that? "I would have appreciated the offer, nonetheless. Even if I could not have joined you. What counts is the gesture."

We glared at each other for a very short while before turning away with arms crossed. Summer even let out a huff.

"Uhm, can I butt in now?", the forgotten companion of hers raised her hand and asked, serving as a reminder for us both that,indeed, we were not alone. "Because I am a little lost here. You two are acquainted with each other?"

"I have the same question on my mind.", Library Girl inserted herself in the conversation as well, taking the chair to my right. "Since when do you two know each other?"

"Well?", Summer shot me a rather weird look, something between challenging and smug. I did not like it. "Why don't you explain?"

"As you wish.", I responded, equally smug, before turning to my companion. "Do you remember when I told you about a issue I had requiring pest control?"

"Yes?", she asked in a very careful manner, probably suspicious of the admittedly loaded question.

"It sits right there.", I pointed with a thumb at Summer whose mouth fell open. Oh yes, I went there. Though it was not actually Summer I spoke of back then. There had been a small rodent problem I found out about shortly after moving into the apartment. They actually ate half a loaf of bread and two apples before the situation had been under control.

I felt a little bad for doing this to Summer, but she really should not have invaded my apartment through the balcony again and again and again. Gods, getting one back felt good. People were right when they said revenge tasted sweet.

"Excuse me!", Summer nearly jumped from her seat. "You did not just go there!"

"You bet I did!", I returned heatedly. "Stop inviting yourself through my balcony and I might reconsider. And don't think for a moment I forgot about the time you stole and ate all my java chip chocolate cookies! They were freshly baked, too!"

"I already apologized for that! Also, if you wouldn't have placed them on a platter on the kitchen table were they can be easily mistaken for free-to-take food, It would not have happened!"

She might have had a point there. Damn it. This round was her win. Quickly, distract and redirect.

"I believe we have not been introduced to each other?", I turned towards the one Summer initially had shared a table with. Upon closer inspection, her table mate was female, had brown skin, dark, almost black hair and was some kind of faunus if the extra pair of ears on top of her head were anything to go by. Why a closer inspection was necessary to determine such, I blamed the lack of sleep.

"Amaryllis.", she introduced herself with a smirk and lifted one hand. Her name probably stemmed from her light-ish red eyes. "A concerned upperclassmen of lil' Summer here. Nice to meet you."

"I am not little!", the lil' Summer complained which we promptly ignored.

"Kestrel.", I took the offered hand and shook it once. The distraction was a success. Go me. Now if only her smirk did not widen considerably upon hearing my name, everything would have been perfect. Alas, it was not to be.

"So you are the illusive Kestrel.", what did that even mean? A bad feeling welled up from deep inside of me. "Have to say, you are different from what the rumors back in Beacon made me believe."

"Rumors?", my heart sank. What in the nine hells was she talking about? "What rumors?"

"Kestrel Harvest.", she began with a voice quickly turning up its dramatics. "He who freed Summer from her shackles!"

Okay, more than completely exaggerated and obviously wrong but otherwise okay, I thought.

"The illusive man who stood eye to eye with the infamous Qrow Branwen and did not blink!"

Which had totally not been the case. Like, at all. I had been quivering in my boots the better half of the confrontation.

"Last but not least, the most impressive thing of them all and my personal favorite: Kestrel Harvest, the legend who _Raven freakin' Branwen_ deemed worthy to grace with a late night visit!"

What. The. Actual. Fuck?! HOW?! How was this a thing? How come these rumors even existed?! Where did they get their information from?! Who in their right mind would believe them in the first place and who would even share them with others?!

"You are Kestrel?", Library Girl asked me, reminding me that we had never ever actually told the other our names. Please, don't look at me with this weird expression. "You are _the_ Kestrel?"

The only answer she got from me was a long groan full of suffering. Slowly, ever so slowly I melted into a puddle upon my chair, my hands hiding my face which I knew had turned beet red by now.

This was hell. This was the absolute bottom. It could not get any worse. It officially was the worst. What did I do to deserve this? Why was I here on Remnant, just to suffer?

"Ryllie!", whilst I was occupied with trying to die from embarrassment, Summer, also sporting a flaming face and embarrassed to a similar degree, was giving her all in a different manner. "Stop! Please!"

"You two are overreacting.", Amaryllis halfheartedly defended herself from Summer's flailing arms. "They are just rumors. No one in their right mind would take them seriously. Its just harmless fun."

"Not for me it isn't.", I disagreed. Slowly I spread my fingers and looked through them at her. "How did this even start?"

"Oh, you know how rumor mills work.", the ebony girl said it in such an offhand manner it almost made it seem like common sense.

Which it was not! What kind of rumor mill worked with such a frightening degree of capability? How did the information even get into the mill in the first place? What sources did it have?

"It inner machinations are a total mystery. No one is really sure how the information -any information - gets in.", Amaryllis continued, unaware of what transpired in my brain. "There are some who believe it has actual agents, an entire spy network even, gathering every piece of juicy information. Of course, it is just a theory."

If her goal was to make me even more paranoid than I already was, she succeed in it and then some. I already knew being aware of this would make me double check every single possible hiding spot in my apartment every time I went to sleep or left my apartment.

"Anyway, you can't really blame them.", she did sound sympathetic. At least a little. One could not overlook the amusement, though. "Raven alone makes team STRQ pretty well-known. Add to that Qrow and Tai and little Sum here and its only natural people take interest. Even more so if the subject in question is a civilian far away from anything Beacon related."

In front of my inner eye the world around me crumbled into a heap of dust and rubble. I had miscalculated. Horribly and utterly miscalculated. My grand plan was in jeopardy. Things were going out of control. The ship was sinking.

Calm down, Kestrel. Calm down. This did not have to mean anything. You would never visit Beacon or its surroundings anyway, there would be no one who could link you to the rumors. Just keep a low profile effective immediately and everything would still work out.

STAY FUCKING CALM!

"... something wrong? You turned a little greenish.", Library Girl's voice pulled me out of my shock. I looked down at my hands balled into fists and they were actually trembling. Holy shit.

"Everything is fine.", I bet she had already grown tired of me saying something along those lines. "Just a little fit of desperation. Nothing major."

"You really should not let it get to you to much. There are rumors about anyone at Beacon.", Amaryllis, I appreciated the thought but it was not that simple. I was not a part of Beacon and never intended to become one. For me to even be mentioned in the place I wanted to avoid the most was not just a small thing for me.

"I am serious. There are rumors about Raven, about Qrow, about Tai, about me, about every professor; There are some about Summer.", Amaryllis pointed at Library Girl. "There are even some about Glynda here."

... What did she just call my library companion?!

Slowly I turned towards the girl on my right. Framed glasses sitting on her nose . Blond hair, long and lose. The sharp and intelligent green eyes. Could it possibly be?

"Your name is Glynda?"

"I wondered when you would finally ask for my name. To be honest, I did not expect it to happen this way.", why did she have to sound this disappointed? "Or take as long as it took you."

It had to be the hair. The missing bun. It had thrown me off enough to not realize with whom I was dealing with. At least its what I told myself in my state of shock to somehow process the new reality in which I was an utter moron for not realizing sooner.

Instead of responding or even gracing the three with any reaction, I called the waiter over and ordered mint tea and a cinnamon roll for myself, with the girls following my example.

Realizing I was not going to engage with anything or anyone beside my food and drink for the rest of the day, mostly because of the shame I felt, the three of them began to talk about various things young aspiring hunters talked about, from weapons to classes to simple stuff which had happened at Beacon.

I did not remember when I drifted off, or even why. Maybe it was the hot tea comfortably spending warmth to my gut. Maybe it was the feeling of soft and delicious pastry on my tongue. Or maybe everything which happened at that day simply had been too much for me to take in.

A small mistake, me closing my eyes for a second too long and I was away.

* * *

 **And here is a little Extra:**

"Oh my gods do you see that?", Summer started to vibrate in her seat. She had just been about to ask Kestrel a question, but then she saw it: He was asleep. Slumped in his seat and with arms crossed. His chin rested on his chest which was slowly raising and falling.

With a light giggle Summer stood up and leaned over the table.

"He looks so peaceful.", she could not help herself but lightly poke his check. For her troubles the huntress-in-training got a little grunt and smack of the lips out of him, making Summer giggle even more.

It was cute, in a very weird and non-endearing way.

"He was supposed to sleep at home.", Glynda sighed, shaking her head a little. "This got to be bad for his neck."

"We simply have to bring him home then.", Summer said, placing a small pirate hat she had folded from a napkin on top of his head. "I can carry him there. Should not be much of a problem."

"What should we do until then?", Amaryllis asked the truly important question. All three girls paused and looked at the sleeping form of one Kestrel Harvest. All three of them had the same thought blitz through their minds. Two of them grinned.

"We can't.", Glynda spoke first before anyone else could suggest it, ever providing the moral perspective.

"Why not?", Amaryllis on the other hand no such qualms. "Its not like he does not deserve it for the pest control comment. Or for forgetting to ask you for your name."

"Th- that may be so, but...", the blonde drifted off, not really able to argue against it.

"Its not like it would hurt him.", Summer said with an innocent look on her face. An expression betrayed by the marker she had pulled out of one of her pockets. "Its just a prank."

Glynda stared at the two other girls. They stared back at her. Their wills clashed. Morals were compared. An entire conversation was held in silence.

"... Fine, do your worst. But I won't be a part of it.", in the end it was Glynda who gave in the same ways her morals did. Taking her cup of tea she did not want to watch what happened next. Then again, curiosity always had the last laugh. Her resolve crumbled and a lone stare was thrown towards the spectacle. Glynda's eyes widened from what she saw.

"A little bit here."

"Don't forget about..."

"Already on it."

"No, this goes there."

"Hands off, I know what I am doing."

"Okay, okay. Jeez, don't need to be so bossy."

"Do you have two pencils?"

"Of course."

"they go there..."

"What about makeup? Some rouge, perhaps?"

"No, but I like you style. Here, take cocoa powder, works just as well."

"Aaand... done.", Amaryllis and Summer leaned back to view their work. Not even a second went by before they burst out laughing, barely managing to keep it down enough to avoid waking Kestrel.

"Doesn't he look precious?"

He really did not. Aside from the pirate hat, they had added multiple scribbles in form of variations of the word 'idiot' as well as cocoa powder which they had applied generously at just the right spots to make him look like some mutant wash bear.

A wash bear which had been crossed with a walrus, if the two pencils which were firmly stuck in his nose were anything to go by. Topping it off was a cream mustache which clung firmly to the stubble Kestrel was beginning to sport.

Thinking back, maybe they overdid it. Just a little. But they had no regrets.

"You two know he is going to be furious later, right?", despite her words Glynda had to cover her smile with a hand, lest she would burst out laughing. This was short-lived, however, as something came to her mind."I really hope the marker you used is non-permanent."

At her words the other two stopped smiling and giggling as well. Summer eyed the object in question. The other two joined her, with all three ending up around the marker and squinting at the text printed on it.

A little drop of sweat rolled down Summer's temple. Maybe she should have checked beforehand...


	27. Chapter 27: The second Morning?

Being able to sleep for an extended period of time, read ten or so hours, was truly magnificent. You felt refreshed, strong and overall ready for the next day to come, no matter what it would throw at you.

Being able to wake up to the smell of chocolate was even better. What a sweet and wonderful smell it was. For a short while I simply laid there and enjoyed the memories of my childhood the smell brought up.

... Wait. Why did I even smell chocolate shortly after waking up?

I was laying face-down on my bed with said face firmly pressed onto my pillow. Stemming my torso up, groggily I opened my eyes and needed to blink multiple times before I could actually see something.

There was a brown face shaped stain on my pillow.

... There was a brown face shaped stain on my pillow...

THERE WAS A BROWN FACE SHAPED STAIN ON MY PILLOW!

With a scream I jumped off my bed to gain some distance from the offending mark my face left on my feather filled comfort giver. My foot caught the edge of my bed, leading to a not so graceful landing. There was not any grace in the landing to be found whatsoever, actually, and could be more accurately described as a full-on crash landing.

Why? Why was there a brown stain on my pillow? Did someone defecate on my bed? Did someone defecate on the part of my bed where my head always rested? And why would it smell like chocolate?

What was going on?

"How come every time I see you, you always end up screaming?", Raven's voice did not even surprise me anymore. The moment she had appeared in my apartment the first time, I already knew she would do so again.

In a very weird and slightly alarming way hearing her voice was a good thing. At least I could explain why she was here, with some probing of course, and did not need to concentrate on the offending discoloration on my pillow anymore.

"Maybe you are just something terrifying to behold. Maybe you should try not looking like a crazy mass murderer for once.", I answered and turned towards her.

Raven was about to shoot one back, even had her mouth open but stopped before the retort could come out. Her eyes became as wide as saucers. A strange sound came out of her throat instead of what she had most likely planned to say and color rose into her normally pale cheeks.

"Are you okay?", instead of answering my question with something I could actually understand another sound escaped her mouth, this time prompting her to literally slap both of her hands on top, effectively sealing it.

This did nothing to stop sound after sound slipping past her lips, however, and her breathing grew a little ragged.

Was Raven dying? Hopefully not. I did not want to explain why a huntress-in-training laid dead in my apartment. Concerned, mostly for my reputation and continuing freedom but concerned nonetheless, I stood up and took a step towards her.

"mrflflenefml",she managed a strange muffle.

"Scuse me, didn't catch that.", I took another step closer and slowly lifted up one of my hands towards her.

"D-Don't c-come any closer.", once again Raven's hands sealed her mouth. She did not leave it at that this time and turned her entire head sideways, eyes fixated on whatever was past my balcony and not moving an inch. To make it even stranger of a behaviour, it seemed like a real struggle for her to keep her eyes there with them trying their hardest to snap back to my person.

Why was she...?

Slowly, ever so slowly my hand moved upwards, towards my face. With much caution I touched my left cheek with just my fingertips. Something was wrong. There was something on my cheek. There was something dry yet sticky on my cheek which felt like dust. Something which was not supposed to be there.

I looked at my finger tips. They were coated with something brown.

I told myself not to flip out. Wit measured steps I walked towards my bathroom, a little afraid of what I might found. With trembling hand I opened the door and walked through, prepared for the worst. Only once I turned towards the mirror above the sink I understood; no matter how prepared I thought I was, one thing was for certain:

I had not been prepared enough. And there was no doubt in my mind about who exactly was responsible for this.

"SUMMER!"

As if to answer my cry for vengeance Raven finally broke, her subdued laughter echoing in through the bathroom door. It was to be the first time I heard a true, honest laugh from her but in the moment I really did not care or even notice. I only saw red.

Summer was going to pay. Oh, how she was going to pay. No one in the history of paying was going to pay the pay the way in which I would make her pay for what she did to me. I did not know how, but I would make Summer beg for mercy. But no matter how much she would beg and plead, there would be no mercy to give for there was none to be found. Not anymore.

Soon after I had washed my face with water, and after briefly wondering why my nostrils were hurting a little, I realized the stupidity of Summer: The little deviant used a permanent marker to scribble all the things on my face. I could very much imagine this only happened by mistake, a mistake I had to rectify with hand sanitizer applied in generous amounts to my face.

Not Fun. Definitely not fun.

Even after the lines were already washed off and I had attempted multiple times to clean my face with running water, soap and thoroughly rubbing my face with a towel, I was still reeking of alcohol. Which meant I most likely had to work today whilst smelling like a brewery. Yeah, today was going to be great!

What greeted me once I walked out of the bathroom was a smirking Raven. Who had far more of a pleasurable time than I could ever have had. Must have been nice, amusing herself about the misfortune of others. Sitting there, all smug and everything.

Of course, this line of thought was entirely hypocritical of me.

"Enjoying yourself?", there really was no way of keeping the grumpiness out of my voice. Not that Raven had any problem with it, seeing her smirk which just kept on growing. It was too early for this.

"Not as much as you, I imagine. Must have been quite the party yesterday.", yeah, way too early. "Though you could have held back with the booze a bit. How irresponsible of you."

The only thing I graced her with was a grunt as I made my way to cook up something resembling breakfast. For me. Not for her. She lost that particular privilege with the side comments just now. I opened the fridge and looked for something nice and edible. Was it just me or was the inside a little emptier than usual?

"Oh, before I forget: Since I had to wait the entire morning for you to wake up I helped myself to some. Hope you do not mind."

True to her words, a plate with crumbles on it and a glass half filled with water stood in front of her. Both signs of an already consumed meal. You damn future deadbeat parent, you could not simply stop, could not help yourself but punch me even when I was already on the ground, could you?

... Then again, I could not bring myself to be surprised. Of course Raven would, without permission or second thought, take something if she wanted it. She hadn't struck me as someone who took even a moment to consider others as long as the others were not, in Raven's eyes, at the very least her equals. Which I was most definitely not.

So, deciding against running into the obvious trap and not suffering further annoyances Raven could and most definitely would throw at me, breakfast became the priority. Thankfully Raven was not one to cook and had left my eggs untouched. The diced ham, too.

Scrambled egg with roasted ham sounded nice. Maybe with some banana milk pancakes? Something salty and savory rounded up with a nice sweet delicious goodness? Yeah, I could most certainly live with that.

Without further comments I got to work, cooking a fresh pot of coffee on the side. Raven was watching me, born more out of boredom than anything else I presumed. Something I did not mind. Not like it was the first time she had seen someone prepare food, and my eating habits were probably not that unusual as to arise suspicion. Well, more suspicion than my behaviour already did.

It took twenty minutes to prepare my first meal of the day. Twenty minutes of smelling the nice aroma of food whilst being hungry.

Food which, I realized shortly after sitting down opposite of Raven to keep her in my view and the table between us, was drawing unwanted attention. Her eyes were glued to my food and there was a certain hunger in them. Oh my, poor Raven, was the cold, insufficient meal you stole from my fridge not as filling and fulfilling as you would have liked it to be?

"How about a deal?", I saw the opportunity and took it. "I give you a quarter of my food and you stop coming to this apartment between ten PM and eleven AM."

C'mon, take the bait. Take it and free me from my suffering, including but not limited to future rumors about me spreading around Vale.

"Make it a third and you have a deal.", after eyeing my plate and its content for three seconds, Raven carved in. Celebrating my victory with an obligatory victory dance in my mind I stood up, leaned over the table and unloaded precisely one third of my food onto her plate.

Raven's eyes widened a small amount after she had taken her first bite.

"This is good.", you did not have to sound so surprised, Raven.

"Of course it is.", and I was pretty self-assured about it, too. "After all, how could I fight off the stereotype of the student who is incapable of cooking for himself, if not by preparing good meals myself?"

"You are a student?", she asked before taking another bite.

"Was. I was a student."

"Of what?", Raven rolled her eyes when I looked at her quizzically. "What did you study?"

"Engineering, Electronics, that sort of thing."

"Coming from you, it does not really surprise me.", you me as well, Raven, you me as well. "It does raise the question why you do not pursue it now, though."

"Lets call it a shift in priorities and leave it there.", like staying alive and making a living in a strange world I was thrown into without my permission. "Most things you begin tend to slip out of your focus and end up forgotten. Such is the world we live in."

I was especially proud of the last little thing I said. A little poetry never harmed anyone. Raven obviously was of a different opinion seeing as she cringed a little. "Never say something like that ever again. You are not cut out to be a poet, do not assume you are."

I hid the offended look on my face behind the rim of my mug of fresh coffee. Did everybody have to be such a critic?

"But speaking of the world...", Raven, why did you sound a little guarded there? "What do you think of Remnant?"

What a strange question to ask. Then again, Raven was a pretty strange girl. It did not alert me as much as it should have.

"What about Remnant? Politics? Technology? The state of all things social? Or just the general stuff?", another sip of coffee rushed down my throat. "Its not as if there is much I could say. Remnant is pretty much just there. Everyone is not as terrified of the Grimm as they should be and people act the way people do. Some are assholes, others are not. Most live inside the walls, and then there are those who live outside."

The future deadbeat parent scoffed a little. "People are plenty terrified of the Grimm. The only reason they are not more so is because they can't afford to. Any more and the attacks would not stop."

"You are probably right.", watching the way in which Raven reacted, she probably thought something along the lines of _'duhh, you think?'_. "And its not as if the Grimm don't do us a favor In a way."

"What favor?", if my comment had affected her, she certainly did not show it.

"I raise your question with another.", I took a sip from my beverage. "Without Grimm, how many wars do you think would have already happened?"

A frown began to mar her face.

"A few, I guess."

I never imagined I would get the opportunity to call Raven naive, at least in my head where she could not hear it, but damn was she naive. She still was eighteen, I got that, but I was only nineteen, just one year older than her. Raven, I expected a little more from you.

"Try one every fifty to sixty years with the amount of kingdoms we currently have. With ever-growing casualty rates as technology progresses. I am talking about millions of casualties here."

"You can't be serious.", Raven looked like she could not even fathom the scale. Probably because in Remnant's entire known history, no such thing had ever happened. Not even the Great War had been as bloody. She had no reference to draw from.

I did.

"Even with the ever-present threat the Grimm pose and with 95 percent of Remnant in their claws, people are still killing each other and make the lives of those around them miserable. Homicides, raids, acts of racism; Take your pick. And nearly every weapon created has been done so with monsters at least twice our size in mind. If the Grimm were no more or were not there to begin with, what do you think would happen?"

The small conflicts would eventually escalate. With no Grimm to hold mankind back, people would spread all across Remnant with a frightening pace. It would be a colonization race all over again. At some point, there would be no more room the kingdoms could grow into.

Squabbling over resources and their sources would become a norm and not help relations between the kingdoms in the slightest. And this was not even the most terrifying part. No, the truly shiver inducing part were the hunters and what they would do without the Grimm. I highly doubted huntsmen and huntresses would simply hang up their weapons and start to live the lives of civilians if there were no more Grimm to be fought.

Slowly this entire ball of rock we called Remnant would turn into a powder keg the same way Europe back on Earth did. If my predictions were correct, of course.

Raven did not say anything for a good fifteen minutes. Something I did not find uncomfortable in the slightest, seeing it as an opportunity to eat my breakfast in peace. Eventually, after we were done eating and I was already putting our used tableware in the dishwasher, she broke the silence.

"Thanks. You gave me a lot to think about."

When I turned around to ask her what she meant, Raven was already gone.


	28. Chapter 28: The Consequence

"Aaaand done.", I nearly slumped over the table in front of me, only stopping myself to save my work.

Having been cleaning the last table I had to for a good ten minutes as part of my end of the day routine I ran through every day after official closing time, there was nothing more I wished for than to end the day.

And what a day it had been. Aside from the snide comments about me smelling like the mouth rag of a full-time alcoholic, it ranged from amusement at my cost once I had explained the situation -omitting the exact nature of what I had to clean off of my face, of course- to quite a few genuinely concerned questions regarding my health. I admitted freely, the latter of the two had been nice at first but after six hours of constantly hearing the same thing over and over again I just wanted it to be over.

This wish for my shift to end was only amplified by having to clean the tables. The last table had also been the biggest challenge of the day and the most disgusting case as well. I was not really sure what the family sitting at this particular piece of furniture did to it and to be honest, I really did not want to know. For the best of everyone involved no further description of the mess was to be provided by my person.

Everyone who had worked as a waiter at some point in their career could probably think of a few things which could have happened to the table, the rest of you had to use your imagination. Even this vague recalling pained me to this day and was nearly too much for me to handle.

In contrast to yesterday I wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep. Here was hoping my pillow would be clean for the night, but it was a shaky hope at best. The washing machine in my possession was not really the newest or best model, meaning the readiness of my pillow was up to whoever was up there.

Speaking of higher-than-you entities. "Kestrel, would you be so kind and take stock? I am not sure if we have enough coffee beans for tomorrow. Or sugar for that matter."

In an employer-employee relationship the boss was somewhat of a king, to an extent, and its not like checking the storage in a small cafe was anything particularly demanding or difficult. Still did not stop me from letting out a sigh before I saw to it.

To get some semblance of peace I closed the door behind me before seeing to my task. A task more rewarding than scrubbing off whatever customers left for me to deal with. Taking stock was never accompanied by the threat of losing one's stomach contents, after all. In contrary, the pleasant smell of the stored goods made it quite easy to get hungry.

To my displeasure Flint was right. There was no way around but to begrudgingly admit it. There was a shortage of coffee beans here... damn it. Anyway, there was also not enough sugar. Both I was not particularly happy with since it meant I had to lift a quite a few packages or, in the coffee beans' case, a couple of heavy bags.

All of that before most people had woken up or my shift had even began. I was paid extra for doing this, of course, and I definitely owed Flint as much for doing all the things he had done for me, but it was still more than a little annoying.

"Kestrel, can you come here please?", I heard the muffled voice of Flint through the door. First you send me into the closet, than you want me to come back out not ten minutes after? I had half a mind to do exactly the opposite of what he wanted. Alas, it was not up to me.

Please don't tell me I left some freaky spot worth every bit of disgust in the world unattended. I could not see those damn things anymore. They were going to scar me for life, more so than I already was.

"We have to go stock up tomorrow morning, by the way.", rubbing my hands I walked back onto the main floor. "Its probably a good idea to fill up on spices as well. Gods know I don't want to deal with little Topaz, her temper and her everlasting obsession with Chelsea buns any more than I have to."

"Not my problem.", yes it very much was! _Bean Here_ was your coffee shop, you middle-aged bastard, not mine and I would not accept being the target of a small child's anger and her general dissatisfaction. "Now act like the productive little employee you pretend you are and brew some coffee, would you? We have a guest."

A guest? Why was I not aware of this? Wait, the guest was not important. My shift had ended. Why should I work, more so if it was for a guest who was not even _my_ guest? Life totally was unfair and Flint better not expected from me to act like a nice waiter after my shift had long since ended.

"I sure hope your guest is worth it because if they are not-", I stopped the rant before it could take off. It was not the cut throat motion Flint sent my way as a sign for me to stop, and it certainly was not the promise of a telling off at a latter date the expression on his face promised.

No, it was something far worse.

It was the sight of the guest. The big elephant in the room. The thing hiding in Pandora's box. Already sporting grey hair on top of a still young but already ageless seeming face and holding a familiar cane in hand, the guest Flint had and who was sitting opposite from him at the counter was none other than the one person I wanted to avoid the most.

Giving me a too _nice_ , too _open_ , too _friendly_ , too _innocent_ smile was Ozpin, the maybe headmaster of Beacon Academy. I was not really sure if he already was at this point in time. Damn it, I really should have checked just in case but of fuckin' course stupid me actually thought of meeting him as nothing more than an impossibility.

Flint and his guest were seated a small distance away from the counter. Yeah, there was no way for me me get out of here at this point. Accepting my fate I walked towards the pair.

"I assume you are the new waiter here, Kestrel Harvest?", the enigmatic man offered me a hand when I stood in front of the table they occupied. All sorts of alarm bells were going off inside my head. "As a teacher, It is always nice to get to know the next generation."

I eyed his offered hand the same way I would a venomous snake before, reluctantly, taking and shaking it. "... a pleasure. I have a question though."

"And what might your question be?", Ozpin beckoned me with a look which was far too encouraging for my liking. "Please, don't be shy and ask away."

"I am sorry, but... who are you?"

If my words had any effect, he sure did not show it. Instead of reacting in any observable manner I would classify as suspicious, he simply gave me an apologetic look. You knew what, scratch the not suspicious thing.

"Forgive me, it was a long day and as afraid as I am to admit it, it seems my mind is a little scattered.", I judged the possibility of it being the truth to be zero. "My name is Ozpin.", he got my best blank look. "The headmaster of Beacon Academy."

Was he probing me? Because it sure as hell felt like it. Something I did not appreciate in the slightest. Though I knew one thing for sure now: Ozpin had already managed to become headmaster. Which was weird. He was what, in his early forties now? Quite young to be something as esteemed as a headmaster of a huntsman academy, let alone Beacon's.

I promptly noted it down in my mind as yet another thing I had to look into. Something which would probably cost me another couple of nights' sleep.

"Meeting new faces is wonderful and all.", Flint inserted himself back into the conversation drawing both of our attention to him. I never had felt more grateful. "But Kestrel, focus and go brew the coffee."

A tear nearly rolled down my cheek. In this very moment every bad thing I had ever thought or felt about my employer evaporated even if he had treated me like a dog just now. He had given me an out, after all, an excuse to get out of Ozpin's focus.

Walking towards, around and behind the counter I began fulfilling my task.

"Sooo,why the visit?", Flint did not sound respectful, or even really cheerful. Instead, the words came out in his typical drawl-ly fashion. At least try, Flint, this is one of the most powerful men on Remnant. "Not like I absolutely _enjoy_ a visit of yours, but you rarely do so without wanting something."

"Is it so hard to believe I simply want a nice cup of coffee?", Ozpin said. In response Flint's eyebrow rose, unimpressed by his words.

"Opzin, please, we both know your special stash is all someone could ever want from coffee."

"And you are the source of it."

"Which you could get from any other person who trades and sells coffee. The only reason you come to me is because I am wiling to do it under the table with your deputy being none the wiser."

"Something you have my thanks for."

"You still have not answered my question: Why are you here? Stop evading and out with it already."

"Trust me when I say I am not here because of a personal matter. I still honor our agreement. This is purely a business visit."

"I figured as much." Flint actually snorted. "Or else I would have already shown you the door."

Okay... this Kestrel wanted subtitles or a pamphlet because I really had not even the smallest of clues regarding what the two were talking about. Heck, I had problems following the conversation even when disregarding all the things left unsaid.

They talked for an additional couple of minutes before finally the hot water was actually hot water and had finished running through, filling the two cups with the steamy black liquid we all know and love as coffee. Placing both of them on a saucer each, I carefully carried them to the two, interrupting whatever Ozpin would have said next.

"Thank you, Kestrel.", Flint took the coffee I offered him and sent a little apologetic smile my way. "Sorry for making you stay longer than you officially have to."

That was... a strangely kind choice of words. A little bit out of character. It took me by surprise, to be honest. All I managed was a little nod of acknowledgement.

"You are quite fond of him.", Ozpin gave his own nod, this one towards me, at the same time he accepted the offered beverage. I had to suppress any visible reaction and probably failed horribly.

"What can I say? Young Kestrel here is surprisingly efficient, no matter how much he complains. Has made my life easier.", Flint gave the headmaster the most fake smile I had ever seen from him. "And he has a way with coffee I am sure everyone involved appreciates."

"I sure do.", Ozpin chuckled. No one else joined him. "And tales of his exploits have even reached my school."

"Don't listen to them, they are all lies.", I felt the need to defend myself. "Slander, the whole lot of them."

Immediately I recognized my error of speaking up.

"Curious. Others would not consider tales of helping someone else to be slander.", I really did not like the way Ozpin eyed me.

Internally, I flinched a little. "I simply don't want to take undue credit for things I did not do."

"A noble gesture.", Ozpin took a sip from his coffee. "Though I believe you are selling yourself short. Ms Rose spoke high praise of you. I have to say it again, this coffee is splendid."

Summer had been talking with Ozpin of all people about me?! Just how much trouble could one girl give me, without doing it on purpose no less? A small shudder ran down my spine at the prospect of Summer actually wanting to give me trouble and what that would bring with it.

"Summer likes to exaggerate. You know how she is."

"And every story, no matter how inaccurate, holds a smidgen of truth."

"I talked with her. Nothing more."

"A talk.", Ozpin let the two words hang for a bit.

"Is... there a problem?"

"Not a problem per se.", No good news never followed this sentence. "I just thought It would be educational to have a talk of my own.", he looked around Bean Here's interior in fake interest. "Though I do not believe a coffee shop, no matter how great it may be, is the right location for it."

No further words needed to be said. There was not a single person who had any doubt in their mind about the meaning of his words. No one required an explanation or clarification.

The gig was up.

Could I talk myself out of it? Unlikely. Ozpin already knew something and deemed it important enough to get me personally. At this point there was nothing I could say to divert him. Could I run? Equally unlikely. He was not the headmaster of Beacon for nothing. There was no running from a hunter, let alone someone of his calibre.

Flint slowly raised from his seat before placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You can have him for three days. That's as long as I can lend him to you. After that, I get him back. In one piece."

I had to be honest: This was the most reasonable decision Flint could have made. It was not a matter only concerning me. Throwing himself in between could very well turn out to be detrimental not just for _Bean Here_ , but also for Flint himself.

The only thing I was left with was to appreciate the sentiment behind his words. Hearing them, there was no doubt in my mind; he did care. That was enough for me to absolve him from any guilt.

"... whilst I believe the sentiment to be admirable, I am not sure if it will be an option.", in response the grip on my shoulder tightened to an almost painful degree. I had to hold back a wince, though Flint did take notice and eased up a little before something broke.

"Than make it one. You still owe me, Oz. And not just for the thing with Raven."

... Just now, did Flint do what I thought he did? Did Flint actually threaten _Ozpin_?!

Silence emanated and spread throughout the room. A tense silence, thick enough I was not even sure if you could cut it with a knife. There were probably a lot of things I could have taken notice of if I had any semblance of a calm state of mind. Alas, I was not and the only thing I was able to do at the time was to look from one of them to the next in what felt like an infinite loop.

"Very well.", Ozpin finally relented. Which was a little bit of a shock. Ok, more than a little. But really, who could have expected Ozpin to actually accommodate Flint? Not as if I was unhappy about it, I could not be farther away from it, but it was strange if you simply looked at where in the world they stood.

On one side you had Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon and one of the most influential people on the face of Remnant. On the other was Flint, the owner of a small coffee shop in a somewhat secluded part of Vale.

If you looked at it logically, there was no reason for Ozpin to even acknowledge the conditions Flint gave him, let alone to fulfill them. Yet here we were, with the headmaster of Beacon not just taking notice, but actually willing to adhere to them. Something more was going on here but for the life of me I could not figure it out with all the other stuff floating through my mind.

"I suppose I can lend him to you, then.", Flint's voice brought out of my daze and made me realize what exactly had happened just now. I had been handed over like a used DVD the other person did not want to buy and who went to a friend for a quick borrow!

Hell no, not happening. Nuh uh. You all could walk off a cliff. No way in hell would I get anywhere near Ozpin's dungeon, let alone Beacon Academy. I needed a lawyer. They might be the personification of everything evil, but at least a lawyer could help me keep the biggest danger to my plan away from me!

Realizing I would not move on my own accord, legs firmly rooted in their spot, once again he resorted to the same method he had used time and time again in the relatively short past we had shared and gave me a push.

"He won't touch you. Just sit tight, do what you are comfortable with and before you know it you are back again. Trust me.", with these last whispered words Flint shoved me towards the headmaster of Beacon who had stood up somewhere during my internal raging.

The moment the entrance to _Bean Here_ fell shut behind me, suddenly cleaning up disgusting messes felt almost inviting.


	29. Chapter 29: Interview the First

Did you know Ozpin actually had a dungeon?

Okay, stupid question. We all had seen the vault in volume 3. But what the volume did not show was the exact size this dungeon had, nor the other rooms besides the vault. It felt like the entire ground beneath Beacon Academy had been borrowed through and held a network as vast as old mining shafts under a industrial zone used primarily for coal mining.

The moment I had walked through the halls, I wondered how this all even went unnoticed. It was a grand miracle and the fact that not no one had even one word to say about it all was incomprehensible. A ginormous project such as this, with no one being the wiser of its existence?

Unlikely, and judging from the state of it all, someone had worked very hard to keep it modernized. I probably should have focused on something more important but who were you, mysterious workers drudging in the shadows to keep this dungeon working?

On another note, my arrival here was after my shift had ended, meaning it was a late enough evening for the students to already be in their dorms. There was no worry to be had about curious onlookers. While I did no think it was enough to stop it from landing in this place's rumour mill, at the very least it would not end up there for some time. Hopefully only after the three days had passed and when I would be as far away from Beacon as I could realistically be.

This brought me back to my current predicament. Day one in someone else's dungeon and stuck in an interrogation room. Yeah, apparently the three days were short enough of a time frame to not even allow me to see my cell beforehand and to start interrogating me on the spot before I even had the chance to settle in.

Oh, did I say interrogation? Excuse me, of course I meant talk. Yes, every person with common sense invited strangers to their dungeon for a talk, because of course having a dungeon was perfectly normal and it was commonly known that dungeons were the best spots for a friendly talk. Especially the included interrogation rooms gave this inviting homy feeling ideal for such occasions.

Said interrogation room was probably the most cliche fulfilling interrogation room in existence. Two chairs on opposite ends of a metal table in an otherwise empty gray white room. Plus a not at all suspicious giant mirror which most definitely was not see-through from one side.

Having been left alone for a good ten minutes my behind was firmly placed on the chair facing the only door this room had. It was already disconcerting to be here in the first place, a door to my back would have made this feel even worse without already being forced to brew here in my own thoughts.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on what you might consider worse, after another five minutes or so which felt a little like an eternity the door opened. Walking in was the root of my current predicament.

With steamy mug in one hand and a bag in the other and a smile on his face Ozpin walked in. The smile was probably intended to bring some calm, but it failed horribly and only made me even more on edge than I already was.

Without a word he stepped up to the table and sat down on the chair opposite of mine. What followed next was the most nerve wrecking starring contest I had to ever endure. It was even more nerve-wrecking than the one I had with Raven, though probably only because Summer had been there as well.

She tended to make things more awkward than serious.

"Shall we start with the interview, then?", Ozpin finally spoke up. Oh, so now it was an interview,huh? I wonder how many more titivations could he possible think up before this whole thing was done? I bet a lot.

He took my not given answer as cue to move on. "Starting things lightly, mind If I ask where you are from, Mr Harvest?"

"Don't you already have the information? And if not, would it not be faster to just look it up? For what reason do I need to give it to you verbally?", besides trying to make me slip up, which went unsaid.

"Just for simple clarification. I do not like it just as much as you do, but it is part of the procedure I'm afraid."

"What procedure? I was under the impression this whole _'interview'_ or whatever you call it is off the record."

"Not mine.", and did these two words not just scream shady business? "Forgive me, I am simply curious. Never before I have heard an accent such as yours before."

"It is fairly common were I am from."

"And where might that be?"

"... Dortmund."

"There, was it so hard?", Ozpin gave me another one of his smiles. I nearly gave him an attempted punch to the face. "What about your family? Are they still living there?"

"... They are not here anymore.", no Kestrel, don't even go there. Let the past be the past. Keep the words and the memories separated. This most definitely was not the time to break down.

I did not give the surfacing memories any time to fester. With all my willpower I pushed them back down, though I could not help but pull a grimace, no matter how much I tried for a blank expression.

Thankfully, for whatever reason, Ozpin did not push. Maybe even he was not heartless enough for that. Or he was simply saving it for later use. Instead of pursuing this particular line of questions, Beacon's headmaster slowly revealed the content of the bag he brought with him. My heart sunk.

"How...?", it was a book, but it was not just any book. It was my notebook. Thoughts whirled through my head, back and forth and up and down as I tried to figure out how exactly he got a hold of it.

The only person who knew about it was Summer. However, it would not have surprised me if Summer, being Summer, probably told him in one of their talks, totally unaware about the consequences. It made sense for Ozpin to talk with her regularly, silver eyes and such.

Now I highly doubted Summer would do something like stealing from me, so she was out of the question. But who...

Oh balls.

"It was Raven, wasn't it? You sent Raven to spy and collect information on me.", Why did I not notice sooner? Major screw up number one.

Ozpin did not even bother to refute it. The unrepentant bastard simply eyed me with curiosity. "You don't sound angry."

"I am furious. At myself, mostly, and at you, but mostly at me. Should have known there was something weird about Raven's complete reversal in her general attitude towards me. Or the fact she visited me for chats in the night or early morning on seemingly own volition.", the very least it explained how Ozpin got access to my book. The why still eluded me. Why had he an interest and why did he go to such lengths?

I highly doubted he would tell me if I asked him.

"You are not angered by Ms Branwen's actions?"

"Why should I?", my head tilted a little to the left.

"In the eyes of most people, Ms Branwen betrayed your trust."

"To betray someone implies there was some form of relationship or contract between them. We are not friends, nor anything else or more. We never made a vow binding us towards some form of confidentiality. She did not betray me for there was nothing to betray."

"She did go through your belongings.", Ozpin pointed out.

"You're right.", I agreed. "Data theft, then, on your orders. When it comes down to it, you willingly reveal more information about yourself by simply owning a scroll than someone sniffing through your night table could ever hope to reveal. I only hope Raven got something good out of your deal, because she won't get more from me."

"And why do you think she got something for it?"

"Please, its Raven.", I scoffed a little. "There is no way she would do anything for someone else without getting something in return. Not even for you, its out of the question.", my brows furrowed a little. "The one question I do have is the why; Why did you even strike a deal with her?"

While I did say he would probably not answer, it was still worth a try, wasn't it?

The man opposite of me did not answer, just as I expected, and opened the book -my book. Ozpin turned it around towards me. "I took quite some time out of my day to study these.", he began to tap on one of the symbols with his index finger. "Even after comparing it with most known and nearly forgotten languages, I have not come closer to understanding these symbols."

Its because they did not exist outside of a friend's and mine head. We created them in second grade, for crying out loud. These symbols did not even have a name. Sadly, I doubted Ozpin would believe any of this even if I told him.

"They are not well known.", instead of telling the whole truth I opted for a simple vague answer. The best kind of answer. "And no, I won't help you understand them."

His eyebrows furrowed a little. "You are different from what I was told about you, Mr Harvest."

"Really? And what have you been told about me?"

"You were described as quiet, reclusive.", fair points. "I was not made aware of your more difficult nature."

"Its easy to be when you don't have to fear a backlash. Why Flint's words have an effect on you I don't know, but the promise he got out of you... you are forced to adhere. Or you feel like you are, and in return I can do what I want. Without fearing repercussions. It basically equates to _'I can speak my mind'_. Openly."

Just like Flint told me to.

"I trust Flint. He has given me ample reason.", I grinned a little. "Something you have not. So I think I will just sit here and follow his advice."

Let it be said there were few things more satisfying than poking the beast. Even more so if it could not come around and bite me in the butt.

* * *

 **36-40° Celsius outside, barely any rain for days and no sun covering clouds, only burning heat rays people call sunshine. And, to make matters worse, I do not possess any Air conditioning in my house. My brain had already been cooked to oblivion, finish me already and end this suffering.**

 **Signed,**

 **A writer with a hellish summer problem**


	30. Chapter 30: Interview the Second

_Mission Log of Captain Kestrel Harvest, Day two:_

 _Still being held by headmaster Ozpin in his dungeon. The night has been an unpleasant experience. Though the cell is not in any shape or form inhumane, it still lacks any sense of comfort. The AC unit is badly configured, leading to either a too warm or too cold climate in my holding cell, and whoever is responsible just does not get it right no matter how many times they obviously try to adjust it._

 _If I did not know any better, I would have thought it was Ozpin's revenge for me being, in his words, difficult. However, there is no way he is such a childish man and lacking the evidence supporting it leads me to promptly disregard this thesis._

 _After all, he has been nice enough to lend me pen and paper to write this, probably in vague hope whatever I write in this cell will lead to a revelation when it comes to him deciphering, what I now call, the Code of Harvest. Spoiler warning, It will not._

 _I admit, naming the encoding after my new surname strips my friend's efforts in creating it with me and masks them as my own. However, I have to give it a name and for a lack of anything better I choose this one. Also, since my person is the only one who knows how to decode it in all of Remnant, I believe the name to be appropriate. There is no monetization as well, so forgive me old friend._

 _The Code of Harvest, as it is to be called from this moment onward, is to my absolute delight an utter annoyance to my captor (and coming from total awareness that you will never be able to read this: Screw you Ozpin!) who is sitting in front of me right now as I write this. He is trying his best to understand the Code of Harvest as I am noting these words down and is failing horribly in his attempt._

 _Kestrel 1-0 Ozpin._

 _Further-_

"...ear me, Mr Harvest? Mr Harvest? Please focus.", begrudgingly I lifted my eyes from the paper in front of me and towards the only other person in this room. I answered his stare filled with a smidgen of impatience with one of annoyance.

"What?"

"I asked you a question, Mr Harvest.", did he? I could not remember.

"Forgive me. It was a long day and as afraid as I am to admit it, it seems my mind is a little scattered.", I tried my hardest to keep a straight face. "Could you repeat the question?"

He knew. Ozpin knew what I did just know. There was only this little twitch of the corner of his eye, but it was enough to show he recognized these words. I marked it down as a victory for me.

 _Kestrel 2-0 Ozpin._

"Are you interested in history, Mr Harvest?", I froze for a split second. It was a specific question. An oddly specific question. Too specific.

... I smelled something foul and no, it was not a dead rat in the ventilation system. History was a topic which, with Ozpin, could very well become a minefield on its own very quickly. Playing the innocence card, I simply asked him without any suspicious inflection in my voice what he meant.

He was gracious enough to answer.

"I know from a reliable source you often read history books whenever you have free time."

Damn it, Summer.

"I also happened to overhear Ms Rose vividly talking about your excursions to the library. She was quite upset you did not invite her along."

Damn it, Summer!

"However, it has become apparent she is a little too upset about it. The stares she sends Ms Goodwitch are distracting for her professors and fellow students alike. Naturally, a few questions have been raised by some on campus."

DAMN IT, SUMMER!

"There was also this.", Ozpin continued and turned the pages of my notebook to one of the newest entries.

The betrayer stared at me from the page. ' _history_ '. A single word was all it had taken. A single word which I, in total sleep deprivation, had written down not in the Code of Harvest, but in English.

"I took a closer look and most of the books you read are related to history."

Another lie. Since I did not borrow any books to read at home, mostly because I had been too lazy to apply for a library card, no one could have looked up which books I took out of the shelf afterwards. He probably caught wind of me going somewhere due to Summer and for some still unknown reason decided to send Raven after me to find out.

Damn it.

 _Kestrel 2-1 Ozpin._

"Fictional work is mostly for entertainment. I enjoy them, but I don't really gain anything else from it.", I spoke carefully." Back in my hometown, I had no shortage of fiction, but the non-fictional books were... scarce. Being in Vale, I wanted to take the presented opportunity and study them."

"Admirable. Such a peculiar choice as well. Development of language is not a topic many your age would find interesting."

"I am a man of vast interests."

"Does this interest also extend to other topics?"

"Coffee, dozing off and playing the piano."

"Literature. I was talking about literature.", the look he gave me changed to one of disappointment. "This would be much easier and more comfortable if you stopped evading my questions."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I am sure you don't.", sarcasm from Ozpin? That was new.

"Look, I don't understand what you are probing for. There is absolutely nothing of value I could give you and I do not have any interest in any of your dealings, be it as the headmaster of Beacon or otherwise. Furthermore, I have no interest in any of your students and would actually appreciate it if you make it far more difficult for them to bother me. Or if you would make it downright impossible for them to do so. I would prefer the latter."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow in response. "I can hardly ban my students from visiting a coffee shop in their free time."

Finally, I could see it. A light at the end of the tunnel. This was the golden opportunity I had been waiting for. If I could convince Ozpin to see things my way, that keeping the troublemakers away from me was the best course of action; him being the headmaster of Beacon would mean he could possibly put a stop to the annoyances popping up in my daily life.

Time to push!

"Use whatever excuse you can think of. They already must go to school, train to and kill walking bio weapons as well as a multitude of other stuff. I am sure visiting a coffee shop in Vale as often as they do is disruptive to their studies and other far more important activities they could indulge in. Ramp up their training regime or make them read more books or..."

I drifted off when I finally noticed the expression on the headmaster's face. It looked kind of scary.

"Bio weapons.", his eyebrows furrowed considerably. "You called Grimm 'bio weapons'."

What followed was silence as I tried to work back and through the last few sentences I had said. Some seconds passed by before the realization came.

... Why was I so stupid?! Why was I born this way?! What, did I get dropped on the head a few times too many when I was a child?

Probably…

Another cat was out of the bag. No one with a sane mind -read with the indoctrination the kingdoms subjugated the population to- could ever possibly come up with such an idea. Me knowing there was someone behind the Grimm before even getting thrown into this world did not help, either.

Thankfully, it was not like Ozpin knew. The only saving grace left remaining. So, time for damage control. Panic-induced damage control.

"A theory.", good job, me. Throwing out something without any further explanation did a fine job of hiding the fact you were grasping for straws. Good job. Sadly, spoken words could not be taken back and now there was no better time to go on the offensive and to bullshit my way out of it.

"There is nothing natural about the Grimm. Their 'biology' does not make any sense, no matter from what angle you look at it. A hunting instinct tuned for one particular animal as food source, us in this case, makes sense. There are a couple of animals who specialize in hunting one thing.", I slipped without wanting to into what Summer would later call the Storyteller Mode, staring at some point above Ozpin' head.

"Except they do not need to hunt for sustenance. Which makes zero sense from an evolutionary standpoint, nor from an ecological one. What role do they play in Remnant's ecosystem? The whole point of hunting was to get the juicy meat which has a higher energy density than plants. Take that away and what reason is there to exert the effort it takes to go hunting? Nature is more often than not smart in its design, disregarding a small error here and there. It would not make such an error. The only conclusion left is: They are not natural. Or at least the probability for them being natural is fairly low."

"And so, the most likely explanation you thought of was Grimm being bio weapons..."

"A lot of Remnant's history has been lost. There could have been some ancient civilization who experimented with something they should not have. It happens often enough."

"In stories. Fictional stories. I assure you, there was no such thing as an advanced ancient civilization who could create something like the Grimm."

"More often than not, truth is stranger than fiction. Let me dream.", because all the other theories I had managed to come up with were so much more terrifying than the one I gave him. "But more importantly, you did not disagree."

"hmm?"

"You did not disagree with the notion of the Grimm being unnatural."

"..."

Oh, did I get you with that? Wind out of your sails, finally? How does it feel, Ozpin? Knowing that all of your time and effort had been for nothing? That your schemes have failed you?

... for some reason I felt as if an evil spirit was looming over me.

"Soooo… you know there is something more to them than whatever people say.", I could not help myself but to prod him.

"I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete I'm afraid."

I was slightly impressed by his deflection, though it still was within my expectations. Ozpin could lay down the manure as thick as I could. Briefly I wondered if the expression even existed. Better I never said it out loud. I definitely did not want to become the target of some sort of language inquisition. Of course, I never expected it, but 19 years' worth of life experience taught me caution.

"That's too bad.", I let the words hang in the air for a little bit, both of us fully aware what game we slipped into. It was a game as old as time and it had many names. The bluffing game, the I know you know that I know that you know game, or, as it was traditionally known in this day and age, the bullshitting game.

Neither of us wanted to admit anything, neither of us trusted the other, and neither of us had the slightest intention of calling the bluff. In a way it was funny; Here, sitting together were two individuals whose positions in society could only with the greatest of efforts be further apart, and we still ended up where we were right now, with neither of us having any real advantage over the other.

"What is your relation to Flint, anyway?", I asked after the silent staring-at-each-other had gone on for a little too long for my taste.

"It is not my place to tell."

"fair enough."

At the very least my answer earned me a raised eyebrow. What, Ozpin, surprised I was not like you and pushed my nose into things which -truth be told- were not of my concern be it in the past, present or future?

"You are right. I should not ask. If he wants me to know, he will tell me.", I elaborated, making a show of inspecting my fingernails. "After all, I would hate to be an inconsiderate troglodyte who does not understand or honour the idea of privacy."

Had to say it again: Playing with fire was fun.

I would have wanted to continue, but it seemed Ozpin did not. With nothing but a sigh he stood up, shot me one last may meaningful glance and walked out. The steel door was closed behind him and once more I was left to my own devices. It made me a little sad to be honest because I still had no real idea why I even was in this situation in the first place.

Though I had to admit, it was fun. Slowly, pocking the bear became addicting. My newfound developing addiction to danger aside, it was somewhat strange for him to just leave. Ozpin looked like he wanted to ask me more questions. He gave up way to fast.

... Well, there was not much he could do at this point.

With a shrug I focused back on my log entry.

 _-more there is a lack of information regarding Ozpin's strange behaviour and the reason behind him taking me here as of yet. I will continue to try to collect information for the health of my privacy as well as my sanity._

 _Status Update:_

 _Another attempted breach of privacy has been blocked thanks to the valiant efforts of Captain Kestrel Harvest. While I may understand that praising myself is in bad taste and should generally be avoided, there is no denying the accomplishment._

 _Since there is no one else here to congratulate me on a job well done, I am forced to take it upon myself until another can do so. If the occasion arrives, of course I will take back the self-praise. Any other course of action would not be proper._

 _With this last show of good character, I will end this log entry._

 _Captain Kestrel Harvest, signing off._


	31. Chapter 31: Bread Crumbs

There were some things Flint became aware of in the two days Kestrel was absent.

Despite the perceived laziness and half-heartedness, the much younger man had proven that he got his work done -and in a satisfactory manner to boot- on a daily basis. Strangely enough Kestrel had a distinct talent to know how long he could spend time exchanging small-talk with a customer before moving on without appearing unfriendly and/or inciting trouble.

Though he never had more than a neutral expression or small smirk gracing his face, and despite what earlier events told Flint about his social aptitude, Kestrel knew how to talk to a customer as long as the customer did not threaten him with physical harm and was able to pull through with it. Social awkwardness had its perks, or so it seemed. Like avoiding social suicide.

Avoiding actual suicide via enraged huntress-in-training on the other hand?

It was a work in progress.

When the last guests of the day had begun to go home, Flint became a little disgruntled at the prospect of having to clean up the place on his own for the second time in a row. He admitted to having been spoiled by Kestrel doing a lot of the legwork since he had begun working at _Bean Here_. This sudden influx of work Flint thought he no longer had to do lead to him not being happy with the current state of affairs.

Ozpin was a bastard. No one could challenge him on this point and win. The old crazy wizard just had to take his favourite and only employee into custody. Flint had an inkling about why Ozpin pulled such a sudden and unannounced move, but there was not really much he could do aside from what he had already done.

He just hoped Kestrel would trust him and take the chance to annoy Beacon's headmaster at every given opportunity. Without having to fear consequences, he was quite the cheeky little birdy after all.

Oh, how he already missed all the back and forth they exchanged during and sometimes after work. Another reason to be annoyed by Ozpin, he supposed: The headmaster stole a good source of entertainment from him. A source of entertainment Flint expected to be returned to him tomorrow or he would have to pull through with the threat he subtly gave the far older man two days ago.

The hope that it would not come down to it was still something he held within him, even though he would not have really minded the conflict; he only wanted to avoid dragging Summer into it. Afterall, even someone like him preferred not to smash a young girl's worldview just yet.

"HEY FLINT!"

 _Speak of the devil and she shall appear_ , Flint thought in amusement as he turned around and saw the brunette running into his coffee shop without a care in the world. Flint did not have the heart to throw her out for entering after opening hours which also extended to her team members who she had dragged with her.

"Yo, Summer and tagalongs.", he gave them a simple two finger salute accompanied by a grin. "Little late for a visit, isn't it? I am pretty sure you guys have a curfew?"

Considering their respective ages and the one foot they had already stepped into adulthood with, well… personally, Flint found it ludicrous to give young adults highly lethal weapons but still force them to adhere to a curfew.

Sadly, rules were rules.

"We still have…", Summer shot a quick look to the clock on the wall to her left which read 8pm. "… two hours left. Plenty of time so don't worry!"

"And the last bullhead flies at quarter to nine-"

"no problem-"

"-Which leaves you with half an hour at most."

The exchange had happened without team STRQ pausing in their steps. Being led by Summer, the four of them quickly moved towards the one table Flint had not managed to clean and which still had its chairs around it.

This was perhaps the most pleasant change Flint had seen in their dynamics: Summer actually led them. Instead of standing somewhere in the middle of the pack, half hidden away behind her bigger teammates, Summer now was in front and in full view. Her back was noticeably straighter as well.

Of course she was not quite there yet. Keeping elongated eye contact was still something she flinched away from with most people. Sometimes there still was some stuttering. Raven was still perfectly able to make Summer cower if she chose to. Compared to how Summer acted before, however? It was like day and night.

"What brings you here? Not like I am complaining, your company is more than enjoyable.", Flint spoke in a cheerful way while he pulled over an additional chair to join the four teenagers at their table. "But something tells me there is more to it. Haven't seen you in the last two days."

"What choice did I have?", Summer pouted which Flint found adorable. "I wanted to come and visit you guys yesterday, but Beacon got in the way. It's not like I could just tell my professors 'sorry, I have a life outside of Beacon, please do not suddenly increase the workload just because the finals are coming up'."

"Or maybe you could slack off less and not doze around or read comics for two hours after classes.", Taiyang wasted no time and attacked from the side. "Just a thought."

Summer leaned back and crossed her arms in defiance. "I do have to recharge my batteries at some point, don't I?"

"I thought relaxing in a coffee shop would do exactly that."

His smart remark earned him a look of utter betrayal.

"I thought I was your leader. Support me!"

"My apologies, oh mighty leader.", Taiyang actually bowed at the waist a little and dipped his head down. "Please, forgive this insolent fool for his transgressions, milady."

Summer, not quite catching the mocking undertone, actually blushed lightly at the milady part. Oh, how much she still had to learn.

"Y-you shall be forgiven just this once.", cute, Summer. Real cute. "And just so you know: Talking with Kestrel is not what I would call relaxing."

"It can't be that bad."

"It is. Every third sentence he says basically screams 'hidden meaning'."

Taiyang shot Qrow a questioning and minimally sceptical look. Come to think of it, Taiyang had not really talked with Kestrel, had he?

"Summer is right. His voice has this undertone as if he knew more than you. You spend half the time trying to figure out what the things he says mean.", Qrow clarified. "Damn confusing and infuriating."

"Then why even talk to him?", good question, Tai.

"Because he is interesting?", Summer, why did your answer sound like a question?

"…"

"Don't judge me, you haven't even talked to him. Speaking of which; Where is Kestrel?", Summer, attempting to divert, turned her head from side to side, looking for the fellow in question. Eight points for trying, though the execution could use a little work.

"Not here, I am afraid. He had a somewhat private matter to attend to.", Summer adopted a downcast expression. Quickly, Flint, appease her! "Don't worry, Kestrel should be back tomorrow."

"you can't tell me…?"

"No."

When Summer turned her head away to show her displeasure Flint shot Raven a look. Said girl did not react in any way or even gave a sign she saw it, but he knew better. Taiyang and Qrow saw the look as well and added their own questioning ones, but they too were ignored. Realizing he could wait for an eternity and still get no input from Raven's side to this whole thing, Flint quickly refocused on Summer.

"Like I said, he will be back tomorrow. No need for panic. Just come down here tomorrow evening and then you can follow your natural huntress instincts and continue to hunt him."

"FLINT!", Summer shot a look towards Tai -what was with kids and their looks?- before folding into herself. Also, once more she imitated a tomato.

The owner of _Bean Here_ wondered how Kestrel would have reacted. What would Kestrel Harvest have done if he had been here right now? A snarky comment, maybe? Once more Flint was dissatisfied with Ozpin's action towards Kestrel which lead to a current lack of interactions between the two youngsters.

Which was a shame. Watching Kestrel and Summer had become one of the things Flint could look forward to. It was generally limited to Kestrel getting annoyed by Summer's attempts at bonding until he shoved something sweet and digestible down her throat to stop her from speaking to him.

It was ironic in a way. Kestrel's method of trying to shut her up only lead to Summer getting more and more encouraged with every new 'treat' she received. If Summer had been born a dog faunus, Flint had no doubt her tail would have wagged every time it happened.

… Anyway, despite his obvious annoyance at Summer's friendliness, strangely enough Kestrel had no observable problem with Summer being in his near vicinity up to the point of her opening her mouth to actually communicate with him for more than ten minutes.

Only a couple more steps from there until Kestrel would accept Summer's attempts to advance their weird relationship to a friendship. Flint was sure of it. Alas, with a couple more steps he meant the equivalent of a journey around Remnant but considering what she had managed up to this point it was only a stone's throw in comparison. Silently he cheered for Summer and wished her continued success.

"It's weird: Lately he is the only topic people around here seem to talk about. You especially. I wonder why that is~.", Flint could not for the life of him keep the teasing tone out of his voice. He did not even have to exaggerate. For the last two days a lot of people had asked him about Kestrel and his whereabouts, mostly _Bean Here_ 's regulars.

Truth be told, it warmed his heart a little.

"NO! I mean, it's not like that…", Summer drifted off and played with some of the hair strands falling over her shoulder. Flint had to resist the urge to coo.

The reactions of her teammates to this display were interesting in their own right: Taiyang's face could not show any more amusement. Raven rolled her eyes but could not help the slightly mocking grin from surfacing. Her brother on the other hand could apparently not decide between a very light scowl and a grin. He ended up pulling an expression somewhere in between the two which looked very weird and very creepy.

"He has this air around him, doesn't he? Makes you want to find out more about him.", which Flint knew for a fact did not work in Kestrel's favour. Aura enhanced senses were quite useful to pick up things out of the ordinary. And nothing was more out of the ordinary than someone who felt like something foreign, unknown.

Funnily enough, Kestrel closely guarding his own personal life and keeping others out of it made hunters all the pushier when it came to all matters concerning him. As a general rule of thumb, hunters did not like surprises. In their line of work, it was understandable. Surprises more often than not ended up killing them after all. To avoid them, everything which evaded their understanding made hunters, for a lack of a better way to phrase it, hunt the truth.

Now when he thought about it, it was probably the reason why Summer and Glynda were on the list of people -beside Flint- who Kestrel did not mind being around of. They did not interrogate him about personal information and most certainly did not push in that direction. Well, Summer had gained a slightly stalker-ish quality, but Flint was sure it was only a phase she would grow out of eventually.

At least he hoped the brunette would. For Kestrel's sanity's sake.

"Exactly!", Summer bounced back from her moment of bashfulness with a very strange but undoubtedly excited gleam in her eyes. "He is like a puzzle box."

"I don't see it.", Qrow said in a peculiarly sour manner and crossed his arms. Wow, Someone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

Taiyang gave the younger Branwen a playful shove. "Ignore him. Qrow is only sulking because Kestrel has been wrecking him in scroll games."

"I do not! And he has not 'wrecked me'!"

"Really? Tell me: What is your current score again?", Tai cupped one of his ears with a hand and leaned a little towards Qrow.

The avian fellow crossed his arms and mumbled something, to low for anyone to hear.

"Care to repeat that?"

Qrow gave him the stinky eye before grumpily answering, this time loud enough for all to hear. "Kestrel leads with 87 wins to my 41."

Taiyang clicked his tongue, shook his head and lifted his arms in a mocking way. "I expected so much more than you."

"Screw you! Play against him and see how you fare before making your comments."

"Language!", Summer admonished Qrow and gave him a whack on the arm, earning a sheepish look from the older boy.

The entire rest of the conversation was filled with the same back-and-forth, ranging from daily life at Beacon to the upcoming missions which were part of the finals. It continued for the next ten minutes in which Summer, Tai and Qrow were the ones talking for the most part. Raven had no real interest and was lost in her own thoughts and Flint was more than comfortable listening to the ramblings of the loud three.

The time flew by in what felt like a blink and STRQ had to say their goodbyes. After Summer promised to come around the next day, all four of them stood up from their seats and moved to leave Flint's domain.

"Ah, wait!", said owner of the domain exclaimed which stopped the group, earning himself questioning gazes. "May I borrow Raven for a minute or two? I have to talk with her about something."

"Someone is in trouble~.", Qrow sang gleefully and gracefully dodged the immediate retaliation from his sister which came in form of a fist.

"Oh, stuff it up your arse."

Summer mumbled something under her breath which suspiciously sounded like 'language' but a quick glare from Raven was all it took to make her scramble away and let out a small 'eep' sound. The team leader barrelled through the front door in what could only be described as a white blur. Tai and Qrow exchanged amused grins before they followed their team leader with a more sedated pace.

"Soooo… I have heard the rumours.", Flint started once the two of them were the only ones in _Bean Here_ and Raven had once again sat down at the table. A friendly smile was playing over his lips, something he hoped to be disarming. It only partially succeeded.

"And?"

"Why did you visit him at such a time? Do you actually harbour any feelings for him?", of course Flint knew there were no such things. When she shook her head in denial, it was well within what he had expected.

"He is interesting, nothing more. As for the time…"

"Sleepy people are less guarded with their words? Oh, I know that perfectly well, little Ms. Spy."

And just like that, the air around them shifted to something a little colder. If the one sitting in front of him had been any other person, Flint would not have resorted to such a blunt approach. However, Raven being Raven meant this way of doing things would be more effective than trying to tickle it out of her.

Her hand wandered towards her weapon, an unconscious action which, more than anything, amused him greatly. A small part in him was offended from her actually believing the weapon would help her. The same part also ranted in the back of his mind about disrespectful youths not recognizing their betters, but that part was quickly shut down.

"You don't have to act so surprised; Nothing happens around here without me knowing about it.", Flint continued, acting like nothing had changed and leaned forward, shifting some weight on his elbows which were by now resting on the table. "I simply am curious: What did you gain from it?"

"Knowledge.", ahh, knowledge. The one true weakness of the otherwise 'impeccable' Raven Branwen. The thirst for it, to be more precise. Flint even had a pretty good idea what knowledge she was talking about. There was really only so much Ozpin could offer her which was also interesting enough to make Raven do something as crass as fishing for information from Flint's employee.

"That's nice. Be careful though; Once knowledge is known, it cannot be unknown.", he felt sorry for Raven. She had been caught in a net and had not even realized it yet. Or maybe she had and only misjudged how dangerous it truly was.

The answer he got was a snort. Slowly, her hand hovering near the hilt of her sword was pulled away. It ended up resting on the table. "You are a little better at it than he is."

"Stating flowery truths which make the one saying them sound pretentious?"

"He does not just sound like it; Kestrel _is_ pretentious."

"Maybe.", he definitely was. And a plethora of other things. However, it was not like Raven had any room to talk about others in that regard. "Nonetheless it is a part of his unique charm, don't you think?"

She did not say anything. Instead, she only scoffed a little and drummed with her fingers on the table. Truly marvellous how saying nothing was an answer in and of itself, wasn't it?

"There is another thing I am wondering about.", his fingers began to tap on the table, copying Raven's action. "Why did Summer come here looking for Kestrel with you in tow even though you know that he won't be here for one more day?"

Again, she did not say anything.

"You did not tell Summer, did you?", it was not really a question. More of an observation.

"What would be the point?", Raven thankfully did not even try to deny it and merely raised an eyebrow. "It's not like I owe her anything."

"Oh, I don't know; Maybe something along the lines of 'being helpful to your team leader'?", Flint shot back.

"I will start to think about it when she finally grows a spine and acts like one."

"Harsh.", and totally uncalled for. Summer was trying and improving. Even Raven should have seen it.

"At least I don't baby her like Tai and my fool of a brother are doing."

"There is a difference between giving someone a chance and babying them."

"I gave her a chance.", Raven's voice grew a little colder. "She blew it."

That, Summer did. "Then give her another. She may positively surprise you this time."

"And Why should I do that? Are you calling in your favour?"

Flint cocked his head to the side as he regarded her. "No, but, if it is more to your fancy, look at it this way: Having Summer owe you one may be, I believe, something worth it in the future. Think about it."

Seeing the glimmer of interest coming to live in Raven's eyes Flint patted himself on the back mentally and stood up, prompting the girl to do the same.

"That was all I really wanted to talk about. Good evening to you."

A quick nod as goodbye was all he got before Raven all but bailed out and the door to his coffee shop fell shut behind her. Flint sat there for another minute and simply stared at the closed door, lost in his thoughts. This could have gone better. Worse, yes, but also better.

Flint wanted Summer to know. She deserved to.

Should he trust Raven's interest to have been piqued enough for her to tell STRQ's leader? No, she most likely won't without one more, one last push. If he should trust Raven to tell Summer or not was not the question he should ask himself. Rather, the important question was 'what would it take to create this last push Raven needed?'.

As he mulled it over and over, a lightbulb suddenly went up in his mind. A mischievous smile found his face as the new idea he got looked more and more inviting. Yes, that would be the most effective course of action.

After quickly typing and sending a message to Summer via scroll, Flint returned to his job with mob in hand. He could not help the self-satisfied hum escaping his lips.

The ball was in her court now.

* * *

Team STRQ had barely managed to get onto the last flight to Beacon Academy.

It had been a close call. Five seconds more and they would have needed to find some place in Vale to spend the night and then get yelled at the next morning once they returned to Beacon. Alternatively, they could have called one of Beacon's bullhead transports to come get them, effectively cutting down the time before they would have been yelled at.

Summer did not like being on the receiving end of a dressing down. She was still traumatized from the last time when Tai and Qrow thought it had been a good idea to prank the strictest teacher in all of Beacon, Professor Marigold.

Said two troublemakers were currently playing a scroll game against each other. Apparently, Qrow did not take his losses against Kestrel, a civilian without hunter trained reflexes, as well as he quite badly pretended to. Tai was more than happy to help him out with training. If only they could have bothered to be a little quieter.

Raven did nothing but stare out of the window, one arm resting on its frame, propping up her head with her hand. The entire picture screamed a loud 'don't bother me'. She had been that way ever since giving Summer one longer than normal glance before scoffing. Summer did not even have it in her anymore to be offended by it. Sad, but true.

And Summer? She was occupied with staring at her scroll's display with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had been doing this for the last 30 seconds. Blinking once, twice, Summer read the message she had received from Flint for the fourth time.

 _If you want to know where Kestrel is, ask Raven._

What? Raven knew his whereabouts? Since when? Why did she not tell her anything? Was he in some sort of trouble? How did Raven fit into the whole thing?

She wanted to know. Oh, how Summer wanted to know. But the one she had to ask was Raven. Someone who had made it perfectly clear where Summer stood in her eyes. Would the older girl even acknowledge the brunette's question?

 _Summer, don't be the leader someone else wants you to be. Don't be the leader someone advised you to be. Be the leader you want to be for them._

Kestrel's words echoed through her mind. He was right. She had to be the leader she wanted to be. But what kind of leader?

A capable leader. A strong leader. Someone her team could trust, could confide in. Someone who, once a situation turned dire, could get them through it in one piece. Summer Rose did not want to be accepted as the leader because Beacon made her the leader or because they humoured her. No, Summer Rose wanted to be acknowledged as the leader out of trust and out of respect.

Summer's walk towards Raven could only be described as wooden. Raven's head swirling towards her the moment Summer made the very first step? That did not help in the slightest. In the back of her mind Summer noted how quiet the two boys of the team had gotten. White Hood stopped when she was a meter away from Raven. Somehow Summer had not broken eye contact. Shouldn't she get a medal for this?

"S-so, Raven. Hey. How a-are you?", Summer silently cursed her own stutter. "I just wan-wanted to ask if you know a-anything about Kestrel?"

The younger girl received a glare for her efforts and had to force herself not to break eye contact. Or to run away, screaming.

Confidence, Summer told herself. Confidence. "I-I ask because of this."

Careful to keep her movements as even as possible, Summer showed Raven the message on her scroll. Red eyes switched from glaring at her to reading what was presented. A second went past before the mother of all scowls twisted Raven's face into the reason why the majority of the student body did not normally dare to approach the older Branwen.

Summer could not help but gulp. Her eyes began to waver away. Maybe she should just turn around? Forget about the message, wait for tomorrow and then simply ask Kestrel?

No, she berated herself. You got this far. Do not chicken out now!

Her lungs took in one deep breath and a second for good luck before Summer straightened herself out and firmly locked her eyes with Raven's. And for the first time since Raven had been acquainted with her, Summer did not flinch or twitch under the older girl's glare.

"Raven, tell me."

Neither of them moved, not even a twitch. The picture they made bore many similarities to a Vacuan standoff and no one would have been surprised if tumbleweeds would have rolled past them.

In this moment there was no stutter and no fear in that voice anymore, only resolve. Unwavering resolve. Something inside Raven's insides twitched at that. This…Could this be a prospect of the future? Was this what Flint had talked about? What Summer could turn out to be? Was this potential strength she saw? Strength which could be realized if only the younger girl had the proper guidance?

A smirk played over her lips, instantly putting her brother on edge. Raven did not care when Qrow, who during the exchange had moved into standing a distance behind Summer, suddenly inched closer in a protective manner. It was not like he was good enough to stop her.

No, all Raven cared about in that moment was that maybe, just maybe Flint was right. Maybe she should give this whole Summer-is-the-team-leader thing a shot. If only to see where it would go.

In that moment Raven made her choice.


	32. Chapter 32: Interview the Third

_Mission Log of Captain Kestrel Harvest, Day three:_

 _Woke up to a curious scratching from behind the wall closest to my bed. Further investigations lead me to the conclusion that I needed to conduct additional investigations. it was a nice distraction for at least a couple of minutes, though it was also a colossal waste of my time._

 _Well, it's not like I do not have time in spades in my current predicament…_

 _On the plus side, today marks my last day in this cell. In a couple of hours, I will be free and back home, brewing my own coffee. Something which can actually be called coffee. Whoever is in charge of brewing coffee down here in Ozpin's dungeon obviously has no idea how to approach it, let alone anything about the process and more than likely thinks it is as simple as pouring hot water over beans._

 _All who think like that are simpletons I do not want anywhere near any coffee shop or coffee, period. No offense, but they do not have earned the right to partake in our lord and saviour and it probably is for the best if they stay with the caffeinated soda they are so fond of and leave coffee well alone._

 _Frankly, those people do not deserve even a single drop of coffee._

 _…gods, how I want a decent coffee right now. I tried to suppress it for my stay here, but I cannot lie to myself anymore. I want to taste it, revel in it, succumb to it and indulge in all its glory. I want coffee._

 _I want it. I want it. I want it! I WANT it! I WANT IT! DEAR LORD, I WANT IT! GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT! GIVE ME COFFEE!_

I laid the pen down and skimmed over the written words once, twice, before blinking and then reading it for the third time just to make sure. No, my eyes did not deceive me. With a groan my hand found my face with enough force to inflict my forehead with a stinging sensation and, probably, a red handprint.

What the hell did I write just now?

"Lien for your thoughts?"

I did not give Ozpin the satisfaction of seeing me jump. Though, to be honest, I did twitch when he suddenly spoke up. Looking up I was met with the sight of Ozpin standing in the doorway of the interrogation room, though something today was strange; He actually gave me a warm, friendly smile. What was up with that?

"My thoughts are priceless, I'm afraid.", it was the best response I could come up with to overplay the fact that Ozpin had caught me on the wrong foot today. Not a good start if I had to be honest.

"Too bad.", he let out a chuckle. A chuckle. He had not shown an ounce of positive emotion in the last two days and I had even started to believe every positive showing I glimpsed from him before was just a well calculated act. Who were you and what did you do to Ozpin? "I do not have that much money."

Was it just me or were both his voice and demeanour way, way friendlier today? Yes, something was different. It made me nervous.

"Too bad.", I echoed him. "It's a limited sale which ends today."

"I assure you I am well aware.", Ozpin said. Closing the door behind him, he walked towards the other chair in front of me and sat down, setting his mug down on the metal table separating us.

He did not sound as bothered by it as I had initially assumed. Choosing to remain silent I stared at him with a look which, I hoped, conveyed my doubts about his apparent nonchalance regarding the soon-to-be end of my stay in his dungeon.

"Why don't we chat a little about how Vale has treated you?", the wizard suggested, realizing I would not say anything without him actually putting in effort to make me talk.

That was… a surprisingly tame topic to choose for the last day. Not that I minded, but I could not imagine what Ozpin could gain from it. All in all, the information about my life in Vale was something I deemed mostly unimportant. Disregarding all the information I had written down, of course.

"Okay?", I continued after he motioned me to go on. "Disregarding the harassment from some customers and the problems a small shortage of money brings on the table… surprisingly good. Flint has been a great support -something you are well aware of - and its thanks to him that I even have a roof over my head and not live on the streets."

I did not mention how without Flint I probably would have died on my first few days in Vale from some sickness and/or hypothermia. Ozpin did not need to know, and it would only raise more questions. Questions I was not interested in answering.

"I owe him, though he has never really acknowledged the debt.", which only made me rank him higher in my mind. If it was me who was owed, I would be after the debt with vigour. Flint was a much better person than me in this regard.

"Flint is a good man. He has always been."

"Surprisingly so. His otherwise rotten personality would suggest otherwise."

He looked at me with a guarded look in his eyes. "I would not go so far to call it rotten."

"He literally told me to go get sexually harassed by old ladies for extra money."

"…", Ozpin's mouth opened a little.

"Yeah, that was my first reaction, too.", I sighed deeply before continuing. "Flint bought me a crate of beer as an apology, so all is forgiven now."

A crease of disapproval played over his forehead. "Mr. Harvest, I was under the impression that you are 19 years old?"

"I am 19. Back home the official drinking age for beer is 16 and, for the hard stuff, 18. And please don't tell me you have fooled yourself into believing teenagers younger than I never drink alcoholic beverages on parties or on other occasions."

"He is still enabling a minor to drink. It does not matter what the rules in your home village are. In Vale the rules of the kingdom of Vale apply."

"If it is any consolation: I never drink in excess. I have never been drunk before and do not plan to get drunk, period."

"And I would prefer it if you wait for two more years.", Opzin let out a sigh as if he wanted to continue to argue but decided not to. Smart man. Drinking was a piece of my heritage I would never part with.

"Well...", his eyes took on a teasing edge. "As long as you do not do anything rash when drinking, I think I can overlook it."

Despite my wishes my body leaned forward from the curiosity it felt. "What do you mean when you say 'anything rash'?"

"I have already mentioned it once or twice; there were a couple of interesting rumours which came to my attention."

Yeah, how about no? And could he please stop referring to it already? What the hell was wrong with him? Was he some kind of shipper? Because if that was the case, keep your fingers out of my business you scheming old wizard.

My body agreed with my thoughts and leaned back, as far away from him as possible.

"I know where this is going. Again. We don't have to talk about Raven. Nor do we have to talk about her spying on me. Or visiting me late at night. We have already done that. A couple of times, in fact. Stop repeating yourself. And, for the record, the rumours are your fault in the first place.", despite me believing otherwise, he conceded without fuss.

"What about the rest of team STRQ?", aaand we took this conversation down the only logical if strange path it could take. Ozpin, did you seriously think changing the flow of our talk this abruptly would create a chink in my defences? Ha, that would not work. Not in a million years.

"I have not talked with Taiyang personally. From what I have heard he seems like a respectable person, though I will withhold any judgement about him before getting to know him."

The far older man nodded as if to say, 'fair enough'.

"Qrow is a…", how should I say it? "Qrow is a person.", Impressed by my eloquent way of putting things, Ozpin was not. "Not that skilled in strategy or keeping the bigger picture in mind if his performance in scroll games is any indication. Good person at heart though with a slightly questionable character?"

He hummed which could have meant anything. "And Summer?"

I did not buy the lightly interested air around him when asking this question for even one second. So we met, elephant in the room which Ozpin had apparently danced around for this entire talk. Now, how to best say it in order to convey to Ozpin my dissatisfaction without sounding insulting?

"Summer is a good person with confidence issues. She has been overly friendly with me and the one person I have the most contact with aside from Flint.", I began with the positive. Always begin with the positive. After all, was that not the way it was taught in school? The same institution which was supposed to prepare us for the real world? Time to see if the lessons in giving criticism were worth anything.

"Mr. Harvest, you are treating this like giving feedback in a classroom, aren't you?", damn right I am! "If I may be frank, you don't sound happy. I sense a 'but' coming."

His senses were correct. "But she is annoying as well. Summer is always following me around whenever and wherever she can."

"I highly doubt it goes this far."

You ever had a moment when all the bottled-up frustration you had accumulated over a lengthy period of time just came out at once? Yeah, that was one of these moments for me and for some reason Ozpin appeared to be the best outlet.

"She ambushes me on my morning runs -no idea how she gets so fast from Beacon to the city- on a routinely basis. And it's not like Summer needs to run with me. She is a huntress-in-training and gets enough of a workout in Beacon and on missions. Running with a civilian on the other hand? Nope, she only does it to be a chatter box, following me and talking my ears off." though I had to admit, the stories were sometimes entertaining.

"Summer harasses me during worktimes with attempts at holding small talk. Do you know how hard it is to serve ten tables when you are held up every five minutes? And don't even get me started on her lack of an idea when it comes to the concepts of doors and privacy.", yet she did not push her nose into my past and respected my silence about it.

Ozpin's eyebrows furrowed. "Isn't it safe to say you have gotten a little bit closer to Ms Rose in the time you two spend together?"

"Not really.", I immediately denied. It was not a lie. Not exactly.

"But surely-"

"Look,", I interrupted him. "Summer has been a constant pain in my back. When I am at work, she is there. When I relax and do something just for myself, she is there. When I go out to eat, surprise surprise, she. Is. There! The frequency of her popping up is steadily increasing. I do not get a break."

"But-"

Why did he not take a hint and drop this topic already? Another spike of frustrations hit me, and I decided to drop a truth which would more than likely stop him from arguing the point anymore.

"I never once considered her a close acquittance, let alone a 'friend'.", I also did the air quotes with my fingers when saying 'friend', just to get the point across.

The only reaction I got from Ozpin was his eyes flickering to the side, towards the mirror. It was for no more than a second before he caught himself. Shortly after a very muffled, barely audible sound came through the one door the room had. It sounded suspiciously like a door hitting a wall with excessive force.

I did not need more to understand. Slowly I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. "Summer had been standing behind that one-way mirror the entire time, hadn't she?"

"Yes."

"She has heard all of that, hasn't she?"

There was no verbal answer and I did not need my eyes to be open to know he nodded in confirmation.

"She is probably not still standing there, is she?"

"Most likely."

Another sigh escaped my lips as I sunk a little into my chair. All of the sudden I felt tired. Before I knew it, I had brought my hands up and covered my face.

In a way, I had achieved my goal. Summer would more likely than not stop bugging me. The other students from Beacon would also stop after a couple of one-sided shouting matches about how much of a terrible person I was. Probably would not even have to wait for it. Taiyang and Qrow are bound to ambush me once I reached the landing pad.

Amaryllis and Glynda would most likely show up the next day to shout at me, followed shortly by every customer who had even the slightest bit of an emotional investment in Summer. Or, in other words, everyone who frequented Bean Here on a regular basis. After some time -most likely two to three weeks- it would simmer down and then, finally, I would have my peace and quiet and could live without the danger of getting sucked into the plot any further.

No more unwanted home visits. No more stalking huntresses bothering me during my morning runs or during my workhours. No more teenagers with a lack of understanding about the existence and importance of doors and personal space and privacy. Really, I should have been happy to finally have it my way.

So why did it not feel like a victory?

* * *

 **And on that _cheery_ note, I hope you all had a round of merry Christmas and awesome New Year's Eve celebrations!**


	33. Chapter 33: The Fallout

Events unfolded exactly as I had predicted.

It did not take long for Taiyang and Qrow to hunt me down. Apparently, both of them had not accompanied Summer on her little excursion to my interrogation room, but that did not matter. They still got to me while I was waiting at Beacon's landing pad for the bullhead which was supposed to bring me down to the city.

While I was occupied with waiting for my bullhead, Qrow had decided to waste some time with yelling and cursing at me. Of course, me being me I blended him out about two minutes into his tirade which did not do wonders for his already agitated emotional state.

One thing led to another and Taiyang had his hands full with stopping his teammate from laying his own appendages on me and doing something which might have had Qrow face expulsion. On the plus side, it took so much out of the blonde that he himself was unable to do as much as Qrow and threaten me with various forms of creative torture. He only got to question my intelligence a couple of times with less than pleasant comparisons.

The whole thing took about five minutes and ended only because my bullhead arrived, marking my exit. Qrow had actually continued to stand on the landing pad for a few more seconds and had thrown what I imagined to be insults aimed at me into the wind. Of course, I had not been able to hear them over the already mentioned wind and the engine noise which all in all had led to Qrow just looking silly and like a total loon.

Then came the next day and the entire following week. Never in my life up to this point would I have been happier to be wrong about something.

In the early afternoon I had gotten a scolding from auntie Violet and her sister who had decided to double team me. I had no idea how they got wind of the thing as fast they obviously did, but that was not important. The other customers being also present and giving me scornful looks by the end of the scolding; That was important, because it changed the rate the information was spreading with from linear to exponential.

Then came the late afternoon and I had to deal with Glynda and Amaryllis, who also had decided to double team me. What they had said was basically the same everyone else had already said before them, but how they had conveyed it was in a weird and frankly terrifying mixture between how team aunties and team protective teammates had done it.

The whole ordeal did not end there, either. More and more people had wanted to give me a piece of their mind, ranging from Beacon students who I had never met, some Beacon faculty members and multiple other customers of Bean Here who at the bare minimum had given me impressive evil eyes. The only way to properly describe the sheer mass of people who thought I had wronged Summer and that it was the most terrible of offenses would be to call it an army.

An army which had focused its entire ire on me.

Here was another point where, again, I felt thankful to have Flint as my employer. Oh, he was disappointed, alright. Like most people, he did not know what had happened, only that I somehow managed to make Summer break down emotionally which ended with her locking herself up in her team's room. Apart from the words needed to communicate on the job, we did not interact in any way, shape or form for the entire week.

I had to thank him for not having to suffer through the stereotypical harassment of the disliked waiter. No one, apparently, wanted to make unfounded complaints about anything related to his coffee shop like the coffee was cold, the cake was dry or anything in this direction. The fact that Flint was the owner seemed to be deterrent enough for this kind of harassment.

The drop in tips? I could live with that.

A lack of actual harrassement did not mean the evil eyes and clipped words stopped, but it made the week a little more bearable. Another plus, Summer had not bothered me since she overheard my conversation with Ozpin and glorious, glorious me-time had been returned to me. Admittedly, I felt a little bad and the once again available me-time did not cancel out the hostility as much as I would have liked, but beggars could not be choosers or something like that.

To sum things up, the last week had been difficult, and I was more than happy to find refuge on my balcony this late evening, leaning back in the rocking chair I have managed to procure and drink beer while looking up to the night sky.

The broken moon was a sight to behold, that was for sure. It perfectly reflected how my life had developed in the last two months. One moment it was whole and peaceful, the next it had been scrambled, broken into shambles and you look at it and wonder 'how did this happen?'.

The only difference being, of course, was the broken moon still being beautiful, while my life had turned hideous and ugly and oh so complicated on more levels then I could count even if I wanted to.

I was brought out of my moment of reflection by the sound of the door leading to my balcony opening. There was no doubt in my mind who just stepped on my balcony. A quick glance confirmed it.

"Can I join you?", Flint did not wait for my answer and closed the door behind him while fiddling with something in his pocket. He sat down on the chair beside mine, pulled a bottle of beer out of the crate standing on the ground between our two seats and opened it, his bare hand twisting off the bottlecap. Scary.

"Have you finally come around to yell at me, too?", I did not so much as move my eyes from the view up there.

"No. A lot of people have already done that. Me yelling at you would not add anything worthwhile. Also, I was partly at fault for what happened."

So it was Flint who informed Summer of my whereabouts and how to find me. Who would have thought? "Then why are you here?"

"I am interested in your reasons.", my reasons, not what I did. Flint had gathered information about what exactly had transpired. Explained why he only came to me now, a week after the fact and not earlier like the rest.

"You don't believe whatever happened happened because I am just such an asshole?"

"Kestrel, you are most definitely an asshole and for pulling what you did, a big one as well.", ouch. "But despite that there is one other thing I know: You always have your reasons."

When I did not reply immediately, he pushed on. "Kestrel, why do reject a friendship with Summer? Or even getting closer?"

"…rationally, it is the best course of action.", pushing my bottle to my lips I discovered that said bottle was empty. My hand quickly found a new one which was open seconds later. Since I could not use my bare hand to do the job like someone else here, I had to use a bottle opener.

"I think we both know the statistics. The reason why old hunters are as rare as they are.", I stated. "Only two fifths of all hunters manage to reach their thirties."

It was something I stumbled upon by accident when I was doing my research. The records were well hidden, as if someone wanted to keep them out of sight. I did not believe these statistics were something the general populace were supposed to be really aware of. Or maybe it had already been accepted as a fact of life.

Those in charge could even continue to claim that the freedoms of press and knowledge were not harmed. It was not classified, after all, only made hard to find. Out of sight, out of mind.

Obviously, I could not tell him about me knowing Summer's fate. But then again, I did not need to convey my actual reasons. It was the same truth in a different package. The fact that Flint did not argue the point told me my assumption had been correct and he knew the death rate figures. It was an acceptable enough reason for my actions.

"I rather not grow close to someone who will most likely be dead in a decade, plus minus a half."

Flint turned his head towards me and away from the night sky for the first time in this conversation. "Have you ever asked yourself this: What if you are wrong?"

"If I am wrong, I only have something else to regret.", I shrugged. "Not like it matters. Either I befriend Summer and she dies, or I don't befriend her and she will live or die; In all three of those cases, regret remains.", I took a sip from my new bottle. "Yes, maybe if I befriend her maybe Summer will live, but I am a realist. I cannot simply ignore the statistics nor the fact that she is the type of person who is the first and most likely to die. There is nothing in a relationship which is all but destined to end abruptly I find worth pursuing."

I did not mention the possibility of informing her or anyone else, read Ozpin, about the future. It was not a viable path for me to take. Way too many variables to consider, way too many ways that course of action could go wrong and lead to me shooting myself in the foot. No, it was far better for my own life to keep a low profile. Or as low as I could still make it.

"In other words, you don't want to get hurt?", Flint emptied his beer and grabbed his second.

"That, and hunters are troublesome and make life difficult. Is that so surprising?"

"A little."

"It's a simple calculus, really.", I took a swig from my bottle.

"A cold one. Though I can see where you are coming from."

"Yet you don't agree."

"You effectively have made the decision for Summer. It's selfish. "

"Really? Then what about Summer? If you say I am acting selfish with taking the decision from her, wasn't Summer also being selfish with her previous actions, which disregarded my choice to remain distant from her? A choice I had made abundantly clear to her beforehand?"

Flint's body stilled for a second before he opened a new bottle of beer and took a long sip. "Let's agree to disagree.", fair enough. "Still, I take from all you have said that it's not Summer herself who is the problem?"

"She personally was never the problem, though she could have given me more space. Summer was a friendly face and if she was not a huntress in the making there would have been far less resistance from my end. I simply want to minimize headaches and grieving as much as possible."

And minimize the interest Ozpin had in me.

Flint hummed in what sounded like understanding. "Have you told Summer any of this? Explained your reasons for rejecting a friendship with her?"

I let out a huff. "I did not even see Summer, let alone have I talked to her. I only deduced that she heard what I have said, and Ozpin confirmed it."

"Then why did you not hunt her down and explained yourself? I can't say it would have made her happy, but she would have understood, at the very least."

"I am not the one training to become a hunter.", the lone eyebrow which rose made it clear perfectly how unimpressed he was with what I said just now. "Let's assume I would have done exactly that and attempted to explain my reasoning. How likely would it have been for Taiyang and Qrow to let me through to her?"

Silence was the answer I got.

"Exactly, it was not likely. They already had begun their shouting and throwing accusations when I waited for the bullhead at Beacon's landing pads. It would not have ended at yelled words if I had tried to go anywhere near Summer."

"You might have a point there."

"I know I have. In conclusion, it's all already done and gone, all things have been said and the chapter is closed. Summer will grow up to be a respectable huntress, I will live out my life in peace and we both are better off without the other. The end."

"That's it?"

My hand stopped for a second in the middle of bringing my beer to my mouth, before continuing. "That's it."

"Did it ever occur to you to measure the worth of a relationship not by the length, but by the good memories it brings with it?"

"I rather not. In cases like this, where a relationship is likely to find a sudden and violent end, good memories are worse than bad ones or no memories at all."

Flint did not say anything in return. Instead, he looked back to the shattered moon above us, his eyes turning a little glassy.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes. Huh, that was not a reaction I had been aiming for. Flint looked lost in his own little world which, by the looks of it, was not a pleasant one. Maybe I should distract hom from whatever happened in his head? To return one of the favours I owe him?

Yeah, I should. What to say to him? Well, there was one thing I could tell him which would do the job. "By the way, I looked at a couple of job offers."

"W-why would you do that?", he spluttered and turned his head towards me. The look in his eyes was gone. Good, my plan worked.

"I just thought having someone with my reputation employed would be bad for your business."

Flint waved me off. "Don't worry too much about it. Sales have not been going down. Most regulars come here because of me. That won't change, even if you are the least popular waiter in town. The influx of Beacon students wanting to shout or look angrily at you actually boosted our sales."

Huh. Who knew Flint gained something good from my misery? "Good to know. I suck at job interviews."

"Hardly surprising."

"Screw you too, Flint. Screw you too."

Our bottles clanked together. No more words were spoken. But that was fine. More than fine. After the whole week and everything which had happened in it, the silence and the quiet as well as the comfortable companionship were all a welcome change of pace.

if I had known what was in store for me in the near future I probably would not have gone as quiet into the night. Or left my apartment the next morning. Or even my bed.

* * *

 **And like that, the first "volume" so to speak comes to an end after 33 admittedly small chapters, though it is still nearly 70k words long (holy shit, did not expect that and a big thank you to all of you who gave this story a chance). Kestrel managed to win the 'most hated waiter'-award, Summer suffered from an emotional setback, Flint continues to be the brilliant bastard he is and Ozpin... does whatever Ozpin does best.**

 **Finally, all pieces are placed! Make your bets now and may the odds be** ** **ever** in Kestrel's favour!**


End file.
